All My Balloons
by shallots
Summary: He looked at her face. Her delicate features smeared with clown paint and left over tears. She never looked more beautiful. The white complexion made her resemble a doll. A porcelain, Harlequin doll. So easily created... so easily broken.
1. Magic Tricks

The Clown Prince of Crime sat on his bed, anxiously wiggling in a straight jacket. A few minutes later he was pulling the straight jacket over his head, with a satisfied "TA-DAH" he threw it across his cell. He giggled at succeeding in removing another straight jacket. Joker skipped to the door and patiently waited for a guard to notice. Then just like they did everyday a nurse would come, aided by two guards and put his lovely jacket back on. Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, it was very repetitive. And Joker's tricks in the asylum were limited. Things like taking off his straight jack, playing dead, making faces and scaring guards were getting old. One guard in particular, Adam was walking by. Joker pressed his lips against the small window on his cell door and blew, it caused his scars to look even more disturbing.

He cringed and sucked on them " Won't do that again,"

" What do you want clown?" Adam said in an aggravated tone.

" I uh, got my straight jacket off," Joker declared proudly.

" This time can you send a pr-it-ier nurse, that last one was a"

Adam cut him off, " I don't have time for your games Joker,"

" Time, speaking of time," the clown began. "What time is it?" he cocked his head to the side.

" Leave me alone," Adam grumbled and walked off.

That's what Joker hated about Arkham, he had no clue what day it was. He had no idea how long he had been there. The little cell he had been living in had no windows and no clock.(Somehow he would use it to hurt someone.) He estimated a month or so. He wondered what Batsy was doing without him. The Batman, his inspiration, the only reason not to simply blow Gotham sky high and move on. He was the ying to his yang, Joker needed him. He knew he would break out at some point, but not yet. Ideas usually came to Joker like fireworks, booming into his mind with loud noises and bright colors. His impulses could not be ignored and he always acted on them. But nothing came to the clown yet and he was content to stay.

Suddenly two guards came into view, one of them carry a tranquilizer, both of them with hand guns on their belts. Joker waved and sat back down on his bed, assuming they were here about the white jacket flung across the floor.

"Goood morning boys," he smiled as they stepped in.

"At least I think so, do you have the time?" they both ignored the question.

" You're going to see a physciatrist today clown boy," one of them stated picking the straight jacket off the floor.

" Physciatrist?" Joker repeated.

" But I haven't had time to do my face," he whined.

" Any chance one of you guys could get me my makeup," he asked emphasizing the "P" in up.

" I want to look my best-ah,"

Ignoring him again they stood Joker up and led him down the hall and into another room. The doctor was not there yet. He looked around the room, just like every wall, ceiling and floor in Arkham, they were a dull off white. Like all the color had been sucked out. It of course had no windows, the only thing in the room was two chairs and a desk. And all the same boring non-color.

" Hello," a cheery female voice said as she opened the door.

Joker noted she sounded unusually happy for a physciatrist at Arkham Asylam. The sound of high heals clicked towards him.

" I am so sorry to keep you waiting Mr. Joker," the physciatrist said as she layed a note book and a few folder on the desk before Joker.

" My name is Dr. Quinzel,"


	2. Only Human

Thank you to everyone who has read/faved/reviewed my first chapter. YOU ROCK! Everyone (besides sweet coldkiss) are probably wondering what the title means. So I am going to take time out to say what a rad band Children 18:3 is. All My Balloons is a title for one of their songs, on top of being an awsome song I thought it seemed Harleyish. So get on Children 18:3's myspace and listen to the song.

Anyway that's all thanks again for reading.

* * *

Dr. Quinzel was not at all what Joker had expected. She did not look like someone who should be working with homicidal maniacs. She looked more like a marriage counselor or someone who works with little kids and teenagers, if in the medical field at all. She tucked a loose strand of shiny blond hair behind her ear and sat down.

" Do you want us to stay Doctor," one guard asked.

" No that won't be necessary, but thank you," she replied.

" Okay," the guard said uneasily. " We'll be right outside if you need us,"

The two stepped out and waited in the hall. Dr. Quinzel flipped through the pages of the notebook.

" How are you today Mr. Joker," she smiled warmly.

Joker did not like her trust in him. She was so comfortable, making conversation like he was just a normal patient. She was not in fear at all, what was happening here. Why did he even get her in the first place. She looked fresh out of college. He was the most dangerous criminal in Gotham. He had killed countless innocent people in the past few months. As well as destroyed a hospital and Gotham's white knight Harvey Dent. He deserved a better shrink. Some old guy that has been working at Arkham since the begining of time. Someone that Joker could stress and eventually cause a heart attack to. Joker was dissapointed.

He shrugged a reply, he was to distracted to give a real answer. Joker just watched Dr. Quinzel. She finished writing.

" So today are session has been cut a little short, due to my lateness," she said apologetically.

" But usually a session last an hour-"

" What time is it?" Joker asked.

" Um, it's ten twenty-five," she looked at her watch.

" Anyway, sessions are an hour, everyday. If you ever need to talk when you are not in a session I will try my best to be there. I have informed the guards here that I allow that, so just ask them to contact me. Now just a little about me, my first name is Harleen. But I would prefer to be called Dr. Quinzel. I just recently moved here to Gotham, I have one other patient. But Jonathan only has a session once a week so I have free time if you need me. So any questions?"

" Yeeaah, how did you manage to get both of Gotham's biggest criminals," asked Joker, curious as to why Arkham had insulted him so by handing him over to Dr. Quinzel.

" Since I just moved here I was not present for your's or the "Scarecrows" crimes on Gotham. This way the two of you can get the help you need without a biased opinion," she replied.

" Now I have a few quick questions for you," the doctor began.

" Can you tell me your biological name?"

" Joker," he stated.

" No, I mean the name your parents gave you… I understand you like to be called Joker. I can continue to address you as "Joker" until you are ready to be called by name. But for now I need to know that name,"

He made an exagerated confused look. " Honestly I can't remember,"

" That is all right Mr. Joker," she wrote something else down.

" Obviously you aren't ready for that, and that's okay. Could you possibly tell me why you chose the alias "Joker", something from your childhood, an experience you had maybe," she asked.

Then a guard entered the room.

" Hour's up Dr. Quinzel," he said.

" Alright," she sighed, disapointed she'd gotten nowhere.

" I will see you tomarrow Mr. Joker,"

" Gentlemen," she said to the guards before leaving the room.

The guards led Joker back to his cage and locked him in. Joker smiled thinking back to Dr. Harleen Quinzel's frustration. She tried to hide it but Joker could see she was discouraged that their first session had not went well. He was glad, who did she think she was coming in all happy and perky. No one treated the Joker that way. That was just it. Out on the streets he was the Joker, purple trench coat, face full of make up. You didn't even have to see he had a knife to be in fear. But inside the walls of Arkham Asylum he was just another man. He ran his fingers up and down his bumpy mutated cheeks, he was just a pathetic, scarred man. That's why Dr. Quinzel wasn't afraid. He was only human in here. That would have to change, then Joker got an idea.


	3. Oatmeal Day

Every time I type a word full of hyphens it's not cuz I think the word is really spelled that way. That's just how the Joker talks. I thought I should clear that up so people don't think I is stooped.

* * *

It was the next morning at Arkham. Joker poked a rubber spoon in and out of what appeared to be oatmeal, but he was not convinced. A male nurse stood in his cell impatiently watching him since he could not wear a straight jacket and eat. Joker looked at the spoon. All the utensils in the asylum were made out of rubber so patients could not hurt themselves or others with them. Joker licked the grayish oatmeal off of his spoon. He could do some damage with it if he applied himself.

"Are you almost done," grumbled the frustrated nurse.

"Like you have anything better to do," Joker retorted.

He began stirring the oatmeal vigorously causing it to fly out. He giggled.

"Is it almost ten o'clock-ah?" Joker asked the nurse.

"Five more minutes," replied the disgruntled nurse.

"Are you done yet?"

"Why so serious, nurse, need an e-ni-ma," he giggled.

"Wait don't move," Joker said before flinging a spoonful of oatmeal at the man. The gooey substance landed on his head and seeped into his black hair. Joker began laughing at the angry nurse and accidentally knocked the tray of the bed.

"That's it," the nurse said he picked up the tray and went to get a janitor to clean up the mixture of oatmeal, orange juice and broken glass.

"Fuckin' son of bitch," the nurse said exiting the cell.

"Leave my mother outa this," Joker exclaimed amidst his laughter.

He was laughing so hard that he had not noticed guards entering to take him to his therapy session.

"Gees guys learn ta knock," Joker said calming down.

"What if I hadn't been de-cent,"

Joker giggled some more, nothing could ruin his mood today, not grumpy nurse, not guards with no concept of personal space, nothing. He sang "Mama" all the way to his session. Arriving at the door just in time to yell "there's shit that I've done with this fuck of a gun" extra loud. The guards opened the door and sent him in. This time Dr. Quinzel waited inside. A little surprised by the profanity she gave a nervous laugh.

"You are certainly in a better mood Mr. Joker," she said.

"Yeess," he began to reply.

"It was oatmeal day,"

The guards gave a quick wave to Dr. Quinzel before heading out the door again.

Joker sat back " So what's with the whole uh, mister thing?"

" I'm just trying to maintain some professionalism, do you not like it?"

" If you want me to I will try being a little more informal," Dr. Quinzel said.

" How does Mr. J sound," she took a pen out from behind her ear and quickly wrote something down.

He smiled he liked the way she said that.

" Well, Mr. J, we had better get started,"

She adjusted the frilly white collar of her blouse beneath her vest and sat back.

"So do you understand why you are here?" she gently questioned.

" Punishment," Joker answered.

The physciatrist shook her head " You are very sick, through no fault of your own. And you are in need of help. Arkham is a safe environment for you to heal Mr. J. And I'm here to help you. Is there anything you need to talk about?"

Joker stared blankly at her. Did she think she was a school guidance counselor, what was that about. A safe environment for you to heal? Was she really that naive? He could have fun with this. Suddenly his sunny mood became a little darker.

" Oh but it is my fault," he grinned.

" Do you wanna know how I got my scars?" he cocked his head unnaturally to the side. Giving him a frightening, animal-like look.

" Of course," Dr. Quinzel answered eagerly, pen ready.

" But, only if you feel comfortable," she added.

" Funny you should metion that?" Joker began.

He wiggled a little in his straight jacket.

" I uh, tend to talk with my hands,"

" Oh, okay, you'll be good right," the young doctor said coming to his side.

Joker stood up as she undid the buckles and pulled of his straight jacket. The guards unable to see inside the room were unaware of what Dr. Quinzel had done.

" Ahh much better," Joker said stretching.

Suddenly he grabbed Dr. Quinzel by the shoulders and before she knew what was happening, he slammed her hard against the wall. She whimpered slightly as pinned her there, her plastic frame glasses sliding crookedly down her nose.

" Now don't cry lit-tle girl," Joker cooed.

" We wouldn't want those guards comin in an interrupting story time now would we," He grabbed her face and shook it from side to side as if saying no.

" I didn't think so,"

" Now where was I," he tapped his chin.

" Oooh yess, my scars," Joker ran is tongue along the inside of one.

Dr. Quinzel bit back her trembling lower lip and there it was the fear, Joker smirked.

"Growing up none of the other kids liked me, said I was a freeak," he said drawing out the word freak.

"And it didn't get any better when I came home from school. See I uh, could never do anything right in my parents eyes,"

Tears began to form in Dr. Quinzel's fear filled eyes.

"So one day I was oh, maybe seventeen, my classmates had been par-ticually cruel. I came home early, no one was home," he brought his face closer to the doctor's.

"I found the sharpest knife we had; I just- just wanted to end my pain. I went to my room and looked in the mirror, and I looked so sad. I wanted to smile one last time, so I put the knife in my mouth," Joker reached into the pocket of his orange Arkham jumpsuit. He pulled out a piece of glass from the cup that broke earlier that morning.

Dr. Quinzel's eyes widened at the shard of glass he was holding, she knew what was coming next. She bit down harder on her lip, and then gasped in pain when she realized she cut it.

At that the Joker stopped. His doctor trembled in front of him now with beads of blood forming on her mouth and falling to her chin. She stood motionless, unsure of what to do as he stared at her bloody lip. Slowly he slipped the glass back into his pocket and gently ran a finger across the blood. Smearing it up the sides of her mouth he painted a smile. Then without warning his mouth crashed upon her's, the pressure causing more blood to ooze out of her wound. Dr. Quinzel struggled to push him away but he would not move. She whined in an attempt to get the guard's attention.

"Shut up," Joker growled in between kisses.

He pushed his tongue into her mouth and ran his hands down from her shoulders to her hips. By this time tears were streaming down her face. She now regretted telling the guards it was unnecessary for them it stay in the room. Joker turned her around and shoved her onto her desk. He climbed onto the desk, straddling her waist he kissed down her neck.

"Kiss me back," he moaned trying to find the buttons on her grey vest.

"No," she replied barely above a whisper.

"Please stop," her voice shook.

"Please, I won't tell anyone"

Much to Dr. Quinzel's surprise he did. He stared at her for a moment her blood smeared on his mouth.

"But how do I know that," he asked gesturing to himself.

"I promise, please stop it," she begged through tears.

Rolling his dark eyes he climbed off, immediately Dr. Quinzel got to her feet. While attempting to wipe the blood from her face and neck she gathered her things then quickly fled out the door. Head down, pretending to look interested in her notebook she hurried down the hall.

"Is everything alright Doctor," a guard called after her.

"Oh yes I'm fine, just um, something came up. I have to get home," she replied.

They went into the room to get Joker. His back turned to the guards he had managed to lick all the blood off his mouth.

"Why's your straight jacket off," a guard demanded to know.

"Dr. Quinzel thought it would make for a more uh, pro-duct-tive session," Joker replied.

He grinned mischievously "Incase you were wondering," Joker began to the men adjusting his straight jacket.

"It did,"


	4. Fear

Dr. Quinzel called in sick the next day.

"Are you going to be alright Harleen," the secretary asked concerned with the doctor's tone of voice.

"I'll be fine," she replied shakily.

"It's no big deal, I'm sure I'll be back to work in a day or two,"

"Okay, get well soon," the secretary said before hanging up the phone.

Harleen never missed work, because she loved what she did. Sure, it was not the common job for a twenty-something girl like herself but she loved it. Harleen discovered her fascination with the human mind when she was a teenager. The minds of serial killers in particular, which led to her job at Arkham Asylum. She found the criminally insane very interesting. But for the first time in her career at the asylum she was in fear, instead of in awe. The doctor had worked with three patients so far. Her first patient was no big deal. A Schizophrenic little man named Joseph. He had only committed a few robberies, not a big deal compared to Gotham's other criminals. During Joseph's sessions with her he never said much. Soon after that she was assigned to the former doctor Jonathan Crane. He was an excellent patient, due to Jonathan's past he was determined to remain dignified. He had suffered with split personalities, Dr. Jonathan Crane and The Scarecrow. Before he was admitted to Arkham he had a run in with the Batman where he was sprayed with a concentrated dose of his own fear toxin. He was left untreated and this caused some minor brain damage. So Jonathan occasionally suffered from night terrors and hallucinations. But Jonathan was always polite to Dr. Quinzel, she had never once seen the Scarecrow in his personality arise. The Joker made number three and he had scared her. Harleen knew little of what he had done to Gotham, she did not research her patient's criminal past in depth so that she should make a clear unbiased examination. The doctor sighed and rubbed her temples. She had hardly slept at all the previous night. Harleen decided on going back to bed.

She trudged back to her bedroom and drew the heavy curtains. Crawling into her bed she pulled the covers up over her shoulders and it was not long before she was asleep.

* * *

Joker sat patiently at the edge of his bed waiting to go to therapy. He was sure it had to be ten o'clock. He smiled thinking about the previous day. He never planned to really carve a smile on her face. Not yet anyway. The doctor just need to be taken down a notch. The Joker needed to establish himself, she was not in control. As for the little make out session that was not part of the "plan". That was his impulsiveness taking over. Joker's mind did not work like everyone else's, it was anarchy in there. He acted on nearly every thought he had, with out guilt or empathy. He thought back to her, pinned against the wall, fear in her eyes and blood swelling on her lip. Joker had been surprised by by his physciatrist's attractiveness before, but suddenly it was to much. He wanted her close to him, to taste her blood, to make her bleed more. Joker subconsciously licked his mouth before bringing himself back into reality, he strode towards his cell door.

Knocking on the pane of glass in the door he got a guards attention, "Can I go to therapy now?"

"Your physciatrist called in sick today," the man replied. One of the guards who had escorted Joker to therapy yesterday.

"Why? You suddenly concerned with getting better,"

"Just wondered," Joker shrugged.

"Listen," the guard began.

"I don't trust you. Something was going on in there yesterday I know it,"

"Well mister... What's your name," the clown cocked his head to one side.

"Derek"

"Ah, Derek, what uh, what makes you think that?"

Derek snorted, "For one thing your straight jacket was off, Dr. Quinzel ran out of the room and isn't here today. I dunno what, but you did something,"

"I thought I explained-" the guard cut him off.

"Shut up," Derek said.

"Forgive me if I don't believe you, clown," he said sarcastically.

"I knew a lot of the people you killed," the guard growled.

Joker suck on his scars and shrugged.

"I otta come in there and kick your ass," Derek eyes narrowed.

"You're welcome to," Joker gave a sickening smile.

"Damn," Derek cursed in frustration. He walked back down the hall.

"Note to self," Joker walked back to his bed.

"Kill Derek as soon as I'm out,"

* * *

Harleen was pressed firmly against a wall. Her eyes fluttered opened in front of her was the Joker, complete with his purple trench and war paint. Harleen desperately called for help but her cries were nothing more than a raspy whisper. The clown leaned closer to her his smile exaggerated by face paint and scars. She turned her head trying to avoid him but her grabbed her face and pushed her back.

"Why so serious," it sounded more like a statement then a question.

The Joker slid the cool blade of his knife into her mouth. Then hold her still he forced the knife into the side of her mouth. It all ahppened so fast. Harleen's eyes widened, she could not breath as hot blood gushed from the side of her face. Joker let go of her and watched her fall to the floor. She felt dizzy going in and out of consciousness, she began to feel cold and numb, unable to scream.

The Joker leaned over top of her,"Hang on sweet heart, you're only smirking," he gestured to her lopsided "smile".

Again she heard the sickening sound of her cheek ripping apart. This time she barely felt anything. The clown stepped back to admire his work as her world went black.

Suddenly we woke up her heart racing she looked around the room comprehending that she had been dreaming. Glancing at her alarm clock she saw to was now 2 o'clock in the afternoon. She rushed out of her dark bedroom and turned on the television to keep her mind of the nightmare. Harleen felt sick, unsure of whether it was hunger or anxiety she put some chicken noodle soup on the stove. Then searched through the channels looking for something to watch, she never did watch much tv. Nothing calmed her nerves anyway, she sat with her hot mug of soup finding that even Sponge Bob's high pitched laughter was somewhat frightening.

"Harley get a hold of yourself," she said in frustration.

She could not let him scare her this much. He was the patient and she was the doctor. She was the authority and it was her job to treat the Joker. Harleen Quinzel decided that tomorrow she would go back to Arkham.


	5. Control

Harleen sat in the parking lot, her hands griping the steering wheel as she looked at the outside Arkham Asylum. Taking a deep breath she opened the car door. The smoothed out her low ponytail and headed for Arkham's doors.

"It's just another day at work," she thought.

"Everything will be okay,"

* * *

It was not long before 10 o'clock came and it was time for therapy. Harleen had been mentally preparing herself for hours. Then sure enough at ten Joker came through the door led by two guards.

"Exuse me," Harleen spoke up.

The guards were just turning to go.

"Could you please remove Mr. Joker's straight jacket, I no longer think it is needed. Oh and I wish to speak to him privately, so you gentlemen can go take a break and be back in an hour," she wanted to prove to him she was not afraid.

Neither of them moved.

"Are you sure?" Derek, the guard from last time asked.

"Quite," the doctor nodded.

"He'll behave," she looked at Joker.

The guards removed his jacket and left, out the door and down the hall way.

"Thanks doc," Joker cracked his knuckled.

"Sooo how are we feeeling?" he asked in a sing song voice.

"Much better, thank you," she responded sternly.

"Now," the doctor began picking up her notebook.

"Are you ready to share your birth name,"

Joker sat back, "Are you mad at me?"

"Cuz you're suddenly not so friendly," he sucked on his scars.

Harleen was dumbfounded how could he ask her something like that.

"Well I'm certainly not happy about how our last session went,"

Joker sighed, "Harley, can I call you that?"

"No," she replied.

"Whatever, let me ex-plain something ta you. The other day... was nothing. I was never gonna hurt you,"

"I just do things," he gestured with his hands.

"That makes no sense," she replied confused.

"Ah but it does," he pointed at her.

"Aannywayy," he put his hand on hers.

"No hard feelings,"

Quickly she withdrew her hand, "There's rules about physical contact,"

Joker laughed at her, "I'd say we've already destroyed that rule,"

"Besides, I think it's obvious I don't follow rules,"

"Why is that," the doctor asked trying to get back to therapy.

He shrugged, "What do they do for you anyway, especially in a city as corrupt as this one, hm"

"My father," he began.

"Beat the hell outa me and my mother almost everyday. Was that "against the rules", yes, but did that save us, no"

"So you had an abusive parent," Harleen wrote that down.

"Mmhmm, what were your parents like," the clown asked her.

"This is about you," she replied.

"I know, just wondered,"

"My parents," Harleen began while writing something down.

"They were good parents, I was a very sheltered child but they were good to me,"

"Sheltered?" said Joker.

"Yes, for example I wasn't allowed to watch cartoons, I could only eat health food, things like that," Harleen was amazed at how comfortable she suddenly felt. No one ever asked her how she felt, it didn't even sink in with her that it was an Arkham inmate asking her.

"Oh and they pressured me so much to suceed in school. And I never had any friends because they didn't want other kids to be an influence on me. And- never mind," she smiled suddenly feeling foolish for venting like that.

"What," he asked.

"Nothing, we really should be talking about you," desperately Harleen tried to remind herself what he had done to her. But she couldn't help herself. She had heard the Joker was very good at manipulating people, but this was unbelievable.

"So, you think that rules are unnessary because the corrupt don't obey them anyway,"

"You could say that," he nodded.

"But wouldn't that make you one of them. I mean do you consider yourself a "bad guy","

He looked thoughtfully, "Well when you think about it we're all "bad guys" in some way,"

"Yes there is a villain lurking in everyone, cuz ya see people are willing to do anything to save themselves, let's use you for example. Two days ago you promised not to "tell on me" if I let you be. If you were to tell what I'd done or that I had a weapon, I would be in trouble. Therefore unable to hurt anyone else. But you chose not to tell, cuz you were scared, you wanted to save your-self, understand? But don't feel bad, that is what ev-ery-body does. We're all lookin out for num-ber one,"

Harleen did, she thought back to that day, her actions had seemed so justified. But she put others in harms way.

"That is a very negative view of the human race Mr. J," she spoke quietly.

"But not untrue, see I may do "horrible things"," Joker said air quoting.

"But it's my job, it's my job to uh show people the truth. Show people who they real-ly are,"

"It doesn't take much for people see, just one bad day," he held up his finger.

"One baaad day can turn a man into a monster," he licked his scars.

"What about the Batman," Harleen spoke up. She desperately didn't want to believe the clown's convincing views.

"Ah Batsy," Joker smiled.

"The thing about Bat-man is whoever the hell masquerades as by day is not him. Ya see... the bat is who he really is. Which is what I'm all about. As for him being the hero of our story, he's not. Eventually ev-er-y-one breaks,"

The doctor stared at him for a moment before looking at her watch. It was already a quarter till eleven.

"Time flies when you're havin' fun eh Harley,"

She gave him a small smile, "I wish you would address me as Dr. Quinzel,"

"Why, Quinzel, it's such an awful name," Joker paused.

"Harleen Quinzel, Harley Quinn," he giggled.

"Get it?"

* * *

Later that day Harleen was sitting in her office, she could not believe how quickly she lost control in Joker's therapy session. She had intending on taking full control as she should being his physciatrist. Yet in less than an hour without any physical force he brought her back down. The Joker was not hostile about it he just very casually regained control. Perfect sociopath, they often had a way with words. Tending to be extremely charming in a weird way, yeah that was definetly the Joker. The events just a few days before was now nothing more than a fading memory. She had convinced herself it was not that bad. She wondered if he was really concerned about her feelings. The clown seemed sincere, no he was just messing with her. She sighed and put her head down on her desk, first Joker made her feel terrified, then showed concern for her, what next. She had to get a grip or she would be in the cell next to him.


	6. Orange Jumpsuits

Harleen watched the Joker from across the desk. He was just sitting there doodling in a notebook with a dull crayon. (He was not allowed pencils for obvious reasons.) This was the third therapy session this had happened. The clown did not like giving out information all at once. To him therapy was a game and he was making it difficult for his physciatrist to win. Besides the Clown Prince of Crime seemed quite content to sit and draw. His "art" consisted of child like drawings but with added violence and gore. Lots of the pictures featured himself, often times covered in blood with a background of HA HA HA. Harleen had hoped to get something, anything out of his disturbing artwork. She sighed and flipped open her cell phone. The doctor had forgotten her watch at home.

"Is that your cell phone?" Joker asked still staring at the notebook.

"Um yes," she answered, thinking it was a bit obvious.

"Can I have it," he asked out of the blue.

Harleen looked confused, "Of course not,"

"I don't mean to keeep it," he emphasized the t in "it".

"I just wanna borrow it,"

"No," the doctor stated again.

"Fine," Joker pouted.

Today he was in a very immature mood. Harleenhad noticed his moods were often different from day to day. She wondered if he changed them so drastically on purpose. A mind game to try to wear her out, it was working.

"I think I am going to give you rec room privilages," she said.

"There's a rec room here, what the hell,"

"Mmhm, there's a tv and games and things like that,"

"I am very confused," Harleen said abruptly.

"Meee to, why would I wanna go play candyland witha bunch of crazies," Joker replied.

"That isn't what I meant. I'm confused by you," Harleen told him.

"Me!" Joker acted suprised.

"Why would I confuse anyone," he smirked. Harleen began to feel angry with him.

"I'm serious Mr. J, I knew your case was not an easy one but I-I'm just at a loss here," she said exasperated.

Joker had already tuned her out, "Why do we wear orange jumpsuits. They are sooo ugly," he thought.

"Arkham Asylum inmates are crazy, not blind,"

Harleen continued, "Never have I had so much difficulty with a patient,"

"Will I be forced to go to this "rec room", I wonder if I can kill someone with those little gingerbread man pieces," he said to himself.

"I mean we have had what- five maybe six therapy sessions and I still have no idea what is wrong with you," the doctor was almost yelling now.

"I'm already in an asylum what would they do if I killed someone now," the clown pondered.

"I just do not know what to do!" tears of frustration began forming in her eyes.

"I wonder why she is yelling at me,"

"I don't think I can do this,"

"She's cute when she's all worked up,"

"Are you even listening," Harleen asked.

Joker turned his head to the side like a confused puppy.

"What will it take for me to get inside your head?" she asked.

"That is... a really creepy statement," he answered over enunciating "statement".

"And believe me, it's a veeery confusing place," his voice was now low and serious.

* * *

About two ours had passed since Harleen's meeting with the Joker. She was now in her office trying to jot down a few ideas for his diagnoses. She flipped through a physcology textbook. What perplexed her the most was his drastically changing personality. She picked up his notebook leafed through it's pages until she had found today's project. One corner of the paper displayed and odd combination of blood splatters and hearts. Not actual human hearts, cute little valentine's day hearts. She shook her head and began to look at the rest of the page. In the center was a self portrait, black make up smeared around the cartoon's eyes and a bloody knife in hand. Harleen turned the page, on this sheet of paper was a clown girl. She made a note to ask Mr. J about that. But as she looked more closely at the female clown she noticed something. At the bottom of the page, in barely legible handwriting was "Harley Quinn"

* * *

A guard led Joker into the rec room, removing his hand cuffs once inside. The clown looked around the room, big surprise it lacked in color. The only color was from the other Arkham inmates bright jumpsuits. On one side of the room was a small office where a nurse sat, in case anyone acted up. There was also a television on that side which was placed high up on the wall. Unsure of what to do joker made his way to a lumpy gray couch in the middle of the room. Looking around everyone seemed pretty out of it. Except for a dark haired man sitting at a table completing a stack of crossword puzzle books. As well as Harleen's other patient the "Scarecrow" who sat at the opposite end of the couch reading. Joker looked at the tv which was playing what looked like a little kid show.

"You must be new," Jonathan spoke not looking up from his book.

He looked at the tv, "They play children's shows because this is about the level of most Arkhaminmates. Sedation and such as reduced most of their mental capacity," the former doctor explained, not mentioning that "such" was his fear toxin.

Jonathan then looked up from his book and gasped. Seeing the long jagged scars extending from Joker's mouth.

"Jesus Christ," he breathed.

"Obviously you have me confused with someone else," Joker licked his mouth.

"No I mean- I knew you were admitted to Arkham it's just that... I didn't think you would be allowed out of your cell," said Jonathan.

By this time other inmates had notice the Joker. During the clown's reign of terror on Gotham City, the nurse in the rec room always had the news on. Despite being told it would give patients ideas. Everyone in the room had seen his videos and footage of him blowing the hospital then finally being arrested. Quiet came over the room, everyone nervous about the Joker despite being criminally insane themselves. Jonathan was amazed at the fear people had for this man. He had found the Joker fascinating on the news, terrifying as well. What he had found so incredible was that it seemed as though the clown feared nothing. Not consequences, not the law, not even the Batman. The Scarecrow in him wondered how the Joker would react to a shot of fear gas. It excited him to think about, the fear brewng in the room gave him chills. Jonathan loved the feeling even if he was not causing it. Just then the door opened and Harleen stepped in.

"Dr. Crane," because of the high dose of fear gas the Batman had sprayed Jonathan with, the man was partially brain damaged. He often thought he was still a doctor and Harleen let him think so.

"It's time for your therapy, I was down this way so I thought we could walk together," she said, trusting him enough not to attempt an escape.

Jonathan was just about to respond when Joker interrupted, "Hey Harley," he called.

Slightly angry at her patient's disrespect in front of other inmates, "Hello Mr. J,"

Jonathan got up to leave, never taking his eyes of the Joker. Harleen noticed the others on the opposite side of the room, she hoped Joker was behaving.


	7. Games

_Sorry I didn't update yesterday, I know what it feels like getting on fanfiction then being extremely dissapointed that none of my favorite fics are updated. But I got Inkdeath and anyone who's into the Inkheart trilogy will understand I HAD start reading it. (If you haven't read it, so far it's good, but it's a very bigass book.) Anyway I dunno but I think lately my chapters have been kinda boring, thank you for still reading. I assure you it is going to get good. Also I dunno if anyone noticed, the Riddler was in the rec room, I thought I'd add that since the lovely Johnny Depp may be playing him in the third batman. Okay that's all, thank you SOOOOOOO much for reading and reviewing, you rock! I love your feedback!_

* * *

"I found that you drew a picture of me yesterday," Harleen said to Joker as she pulled out the notebook.

"I was curious as to why you drew me like a clown,"

"Artistic license," Joker responded.

"No offense but you're kinda um, boring, I thought I'd make you a little more fun, Harley Quinn,"

"Please Mr. J, Harley Quinn is not my name, how was the rec room?"

Joker made a face.

"Apparently you didn't enjoy yourself?" Harleen asked.

Joker completely ignored the question, "Speaking of boring things, can I uh, ask you some-thing,"

"Yes,"

"I was hoping to get my makeup back,"

When a patient was admitted to Arkham their belongings were kept in lockers in the asylum's basement.

"I'm sorry Mr. J, I am not in charge of that, besides shouldn't you try to avoid you clown persona,"

Joker just stared blankly at her.

"Why do you want to continue wearing face paint?" the doctor asked.

"It looks good," he smiled.

Harleen sighed, "I should have known you won't give me a real reason. Anyway, I have no idea if your make up is even here,"

"And besides Mr. J, don't you want to get better?"

Joker gave her a side ways look, "What do you not un-der-stand?"

"See, my uh, quote unquote "sickness" has nothing to do with make up," the Joker said making air quotes.

"It's not a persona or a uh, a character, no. It has nothing to do wiiith green hair dye or purple suits... any of those things," he waved his hands around.

He leaned forward, his face downward he looked up at her, "Do you wanna know what makes me who I am?"

Harleen nodding in silence.

The clown ran a finger up his permanent "smile", "Scars," he whispered.

"Eeeven if by some... uh, miracle you could convince me to change my ways. These," he licked his scars.

"These wouldn't go away, and ya know what I've noticed doctor. People are afraid of what's different, the things that... they don't ... understand. People don't understand theese,"

He sat back in his chair, "You know what it feels like... not to be ac-cept-ted,"

She did, she had always been a "nerd" in school. And even in college, she was never invited to parties or asked out on dates, it didn't matter anyway she was to busy studying.

"Do you wanna know what it feels like to have scars,"

Harleen didn't say anything. She could feel her fear again, clouding the room. She could not seem to find her voice.

"Com'ere," Joker said motioning to her.

She rose from her chair. Harleen cautiously walked towards Joker. She stood in front of him, everything inside her screaming that it was a bad idea to approach him. But the doctor knew if she stayed seated the Joker would win, he would know she was scared. Of course with such a short distance between them he may win anyway. Harleen wondered if the clown still had that shard of broken glass.

Joker smiled darkly, pleased she did as she was told. Harley thought she was in control, HA. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her onto his lap. Oh yes he won. Joker wrapped an arm possessively around his doctor's waist, she didn't struggle.

"Mr. J," she tried to keep her voice from shaking.

"Please let me go, I don't want to report,"

"Aw you're so cute tryin' to be brave," he held her tighter nuzzling her cheek.

"But you and I both know you don't have the guts to re-port meee," he whispered in her ear.

Harleen's felt sick, her heart pounding furiously.

Joker slowly ran his hand down her arm until he found her's. Harleen squeezed her eyes shut.

"Why am I allowing this?!," she thought to herself.

"Run away, yell for help, something!" her mind screamed.

Joker slowly brought her hand up to his face, watching her as she trembled in fear. Harleen shuddered feeling the hard, lumpy flesh curving up his face.

"It's okay, look at me," he said soothingly.

"Look at me," Joker repeated more forcefully when she did not respond.

She opened her eyes and slowly faced him, her hand was on the shorter scar. She had wondered why they were uneven, Harleen that made her cringe. Joker moved her small hand to the longer more precise scar. It extended higher and curved slightly at it's end. She stared at the deformed flesh beneath her fingertips. They looked as though they were painful, even though all the nerve endings were most likely severed. It made the corners of her mouth hurt. For the first time Harleen felt sympathy for this patient. Ever since he was assigned to her, she was confused, frighten and somewhat angry because of him, but never sympathetic. She suddenly realized how real the Joker's scars were as he ran her fingers slowly up and down them. Harleen wondered if he had really done such a thing to himself. How much inward pain would someone have to feel to cause this much outward pain to themselves? And if the clown had not caused this who did? How could anyone do this to him... Harleen's mind wondered over the Joker's possible past and suddenly everything made sense. He was no monster, but a man. Harleen's eyes filled with tears, not because she was afraid but because she was sad. The Joker, whoever he had been, was just a hurting person. All he wanted was to be loved and accepted like everyone else instead of judged, even she had began to do that to him. Yes he had done horrible things but it wasn't because he was evil. It was the scars, it wasn't his fault. She wondered who he would have became if his life had not been ruined by them. Harleen now could not control the tears streaming down her face. She caressed the other scar with her free hand.

"What do they feel like on the inside," she said quietly.

The Joker smirked, he pulled her closer kissing but not as roughly as last time. He wanted her to want it, to need it. Suddenly to Harleen nothing else mattered she did not think of how wrong the situation was, or how horrible it would be if they were caught. Harleen did not care, she kissed him back, running her tongue over the small scar on his bottom lip. Then she slowly slipped her tongue into his mouth, she had never done this before. (Not just to patients, to anyone.) Chills ran up and down her spine feeling the inside of his mutilated cheek. It took all Joker had not to burst into laughter. It was hilarious, he had her so confused one minute she is scared to death, the next her tongue is in his mouth. Who knew how much fun one could have in Arkham Asylum.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. The sound woke her out of her dream like state, she was finally appalled with herself. Quickly she got of Joker and backed up against her desk. There was another knock.

"Oh, c-come in," the doctor stuttered.

It was two guards coming to take the Joker back to his cell, Harleen did not know why they had knocked. But she thanked God they did. She did her best to look pleasant despite the extreme guilt growing inside her.

"I'll see you tomorrow Mr. J," she said trying to sound casual.

"We can pick up where we left off," he said in a sing song voice.

"I remember ex-act-ly where we were, Dr. Quinzel" he laughed.

She hoped the guards cared to little to suspect anything. She waved and hurried back to her office.


	8. Face Paints

Harleen usually left work around four of five. She glanced at the clock in her car, 3:45. She drove on watching Arkham Asylum disappear in her mirrors. She felt a migraine coming on from her day at work. She drove down the road before pulling into a grocery store parking lot. After parking she searched through her purse for her shopping list she had made out that morning. It wasn't much, instant coffee, orange juice, shampoo and tooth paste. She decided to add ice cream to the list. Then stepped out into the cold, October weather, Harleen never wasted time anywhere it wasn't long before she had everything, but as she slipped a bottle of raspberry scented shampoo into her basket she noticed the makeup isle. It made her think of Joker, it was kind of sweet they way he had asked for his face paint back. She shook her head, how could she use Joker and sweet in the same thought. Despite common sense she made her way to the make up section. Harleen examined a bright red tube of lipstick.

"What does he use," she wondered. "Would women's cosemetics be offensive,"

Probably not, she doubted the Joker got offended. She put the lipstick back, supposing they wouldn't carry "clown white" foundation anyway. Harleen decided to look with the Halloween costumes, as she walked into the isle she noticed a teenage girl hanging up a vampire costume.

"Excuse me?" she asked the girl, not wanting to waste anymore time. "Do you have black, red and white face paint,"

The girl tucked a long strand of brown hair behind her ear, "You mean like the Joker?"

Harleen was startled by the mention of his name, "Um sure,"

The girl took a plastic package of face paint off the shelf.

"This one is really authentic, my sister tried it out," the teenager handed Harleen the make up. "she and I are going as the Batman and Joker for Halloween,"

The doctor found it somewhat disturbing that two girls were dressing up as two of Gotham's most wanted for Halloween. But of course she had spent most of the Joker's therapy session making out, so how demented did that make her.

"Really, which one are you," she asked curious as to who would be Joker.

"I'm Batman," the girl laughed in response.

Harleen paid for her items and headed for home, crashing on the couch when she arrived. Feeling so emotionally spent she reached for a throw blanket hanging on the back of her couch and soon fell asleep.

* * *

It was now nine o'clock at night in Arkham Asylum, bedtime. All the lights had been turned out except for those in the hallway. The cells in Arkham grew pretty dark at night, only a little light shone threw the small window in the door. Patients were usually scared around this time, the nervous ones that is. Typically they would scream or cry for about half an hour before calming down and sleeping. Tonight was strangely quite however. Joker did not like this, he had grown so accustom to their cries. It was like a little dose of chaos that he rarely had the pleasure of experiencingin this hell hole. They were kind of like sick lullabies to him. Tonight Joker could not sleep. The clown walked through the darkness to his cell door. Peering out the window he noticed Derek the guard.

"I thought you were a uh, morning guy," Joker said to him.

"I switched shifts," he replied.

"Reeeaally," Joker said conversationally. "Why?"

The guard shrugged, "Thought if I worked nights I wouldn't hafta deal with your shit, go to bed clown,"

"I have a name you know," he responded. "Joookkkerrrr, or Mr. J if ya like, that's what Har-ley calls me but soome-how I doubt it would sound as uh, sexy comin' from you Donald,"

"It's Derek, now shut up and get in bed!" the man yelled.

Joker smiled at the Derek's obvious frustration, "Just curious," he began. "So what made you decide to work in an in-sane asylum?"

Derek ignored Joker's question.

"Cuz I can't imagine a uh a little boy aspiring to something like that. What do you wanna be when you grow up little Derek," he began. "I wanna work with the criminally insane," Joker then answered himself in a high pitched voice.

"Go to bed, I'm not gonna tell you again," Derek warned.

"You're not very patient-ah, are ya Danny," Joker smiled.

"It's Derek you fuckin' clown," Derek stepped closer to his cell.

Joker pretended to be appalled, "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth!"

"I mean it, shut up, I've had a long day," the guard said through gritted teeth.

"Aw why so serious, is it that time of the month," Joker whispered loudly before bursting into a fit of giggles.

"Don't fuck with me Joker, I'll kick your ass," Derek had taken the bait now Joker just needed to reel him in.

"Who said an-y-thing about fucking. I didn't. I like girls Dougie," Joker continued laughing.

"That's it," the man growled.

He dug a pass key out of his pocket and quickly unlocked Joker's cell. Bursting through the door he slammed the clown against the wall hard. Derek drew back a fist slamming Joker in the mouth who began to laugh harder. Enraged the guard hit him again this time square in his left eye and then again in the mouth.

"Sicko," Derek spat. "Ya know I could kill you right now, no one would care you crazy bastard," he threw him to the floor.

Joker laughed spitting a mix of saliva and blood on the cement floor.

"Aww," he panted. "You offended me. I'm definitely not sleeping with ya know," the clown said followed by more laughter.

Derek dove on top of him hitting him in the face several more times, adrenaline rushing through him. He wanted revenge for his friends, revenge for Gotham, for whatever he knew the clown did to Dr. Quinzel. The little remarks and poking fun at him just pushed him over the edge. He stood up and kicked Joker hard in his side. By know he was beginning to stop his insane peels of laughter. Derek took one final look at the clown bleeding on the floor and stormed out.

Joker's sides ached, partly because of the swift kick he had just received and partly from laughing. He panted feeling blood running down his throat he had to sit up before he choked on it. With lots of effort, Joker leaned against the nearest wall. He lifted a hand to feel the warm blood gushing out of his injured mouth. Smiling like a demented little child he finger paintedon the cold floor with the sticky substance. Painting Xsand Os, smiley faces and the Batman's symbol. Then he lifted his other hand up, in it was Derek's cell phone. He flipped it open and eyed the screen, Arkham Asylum got wonderful receiption. Joker closed the glowing phone and stumbled to his bed. The clown tucked the stolen phone into his pillow case for safe keeping. Joker was ready to go to sleep.


	9. Bruises

_That last chapter was a little shout out to my sister (who is batman) you better be reading this bitch! Anyway thanks again everyone else for reading and reviewing your're awsome!_

* * *

Harleen woke up early the next morning, confused to find herself on the couch. It was still dark, she felt around for her glasses before realizing she fell asleep with them resting on her nose. Harleen looked towards the kitchen where the microwave's clock read 3:35 AM. Considerably earlier then she usually awoke, she decided to get ready for work. The doctor trudged to the bathroom for a shower, the heat felt so good. Her back and neck were tight and sore, she wondered how she was able to fall asleep there in the first place. After a long shower she wrapped a towel around herself and headed for her room in search of clothing. Harleen's closet was not very big not unlike her apartment. But it suited her, she slid hangers around looking for a blouse. Looking at her wardrobe she noticed Joker was right about her being boring. All of her tops were neutrals, no patterns and to be paired with equally boring slacks. A pencil skirt occasionally. She pulled one out of the closet and laid it aside. Then Harleen searched more closely through her shirts, she had to have something with color. At the back of her closet she spotted light pink. She pulled it out, a satin, pink blouse with a belt wrapping around the waist. She got dressed and dried her hair deciding to wear it down today. She looked in the mirror, the outfit seemed to be missing something. Harleen searched through the cabinents under the sink, make up. Usually she did not bother with it, but she kept some for special occasions. She took out a took some mascara, lip gloss and a light brown eyeshadow. Then she traded her plastic frame glasses for her contacts so the make up would standout more. Pleased with herself Harleen headed for the kitchen for breakfast. As she sliced into a grapefruit she had to ask herself why she was doing all this. The doctor never troubled herself with petty things like hair and make up. There was never anyone to look good for, was that what she was trying to do.

"Mr. J is your patient," she told herself. "Nothing more,"

Harleen felt disgusted with herself, what was she thinking. It was so wrong, having a crush on her criminally insane patient. It made no sense. But maybe Joker wasn't all bad, she thought. His story was quite sad assuming it was true. It was the scars that made him that way. Maybe she could change him, maybe if the clown had someone to love him, someone who didn't care about his scars...

Suddenly her phone ran breaking the silence.

Harleen picked it up, "Hello,"

"Good morning Dr. Quinzel," it was Kelly, a secretary who worked at Arkham. "Dr. Leeland wanted me to call you before you came in today,"

Dr. Leeland was Harleen's boss, she wondered why her boss wanted to call her.

"Is there something wrong?" Harleen asked.

"Well, Dr. Leeland just wanted to let you know one of your patients, the Joker, is at the nurse's office," responded Kelly.

Arkham Asylum had a nurse's office that worked somewhat like a school. If an inmate was not feeling well a guard would take them there, if they were seriously ill the patient would be taken on to the hospital. Harleen was not to worried, Joker seemed fine yesterday. The clown had been known to fake sickness out of boredom.

"Is it serious?" inquired Harleen.

"Well, I don't know all the details," began the secretary. "All I know someone beat him up, pretty badly,"

Harleen went white, "H-how?"

"Sorry Dr. Quinzel I don't know," Kelly said casually. "I'm sure he'll be fine, I mean he took on the Batman didn't he? Anyway, have a nice day Dr. Quinzel,"

She hung up. Harleen decided to head to work early.

* * *

By the time Harleen arrived at the asylum she was growing furious. She had to talk to Dr. Leeland and find out what happened. It was obvious that a guard beat him during the night, she hoped whoever it was would not get away with it. Dr. Leeland was fair, she would make sure the man was fired. She was the one who hired Harleen and she really looked up to Dr. Leeland. She rode the elevator to her boss's office on the top floor.

"Dr. Quinzel, hi," Kelly greeted cheerfully as Harleen exited the elevator.

"I need to speak to Dr. Leeland," said Harleen.

Kelly pressed a button on her phone, "Dr. Leeland, Dr. Quinzel would like to speak with you,"

"Send her in," responed the voice over the phone.

"This way," chirped Kelly as she lead Harleen to Dr. Leeland's door.

"Good morning Dr. Quinzel," said Dr. Leeland as she opened the door.

"Good morning, I was hoping to talk to you about Mr. Joker," Harleen tried to remain calm.

"Have a seat," Dr. Leeland offered as she sorted through some paperwork.

Harleen was not sure what to say, "Do you um, know how he is doing?" she asked.

"The nurses said he was going to be just fine," the brunette doctor responded.

"Is anything going to be done about this situation?" asked Harleen.

Dr. Leeland layed her papers down, "What do you mean?"

Harleen stammered, "Well assuming it was the guard last night, I mean are we taking legal action?" she was finding it impossible to think straight.

"We cannot assume anything doctor,"

"Well who else could have had access to a key last night," Harleen didn't like where this was going. She took a deep breath, "Will this be investigated?"

"Probably not, we have more important things to worry about here at Arkham," she said.

Harleen shook her head, "But Dr. Leeland something has to be done,"

"Dr, Quinzel, I think that some things are just better off left alone," Dr. Leeland explained. "Do you understand?"

"No, no I do not, I don't understand how someone can sneak around at night, mercilessly beating inmates and you do nothing about it," Harleen raised her voice. "Yes, I understand that my patient did some horrible things to Gotham city and it's citizens. But that shouldn't justify what was done to him,"

"Dr. Quinzel I'm going to have to ask you to leave my office," Dr. Leeland stood up.

"That's fine," Harleen rose as well. "I'm disappointed in you doctor,"

With that she stormed out.

* * *

A few hours later it was time for therapy but Harleen was late. Two guards were waiting outside the door, Joker was inside. He ran his tongue along a scab that began forming on his busted lip. Fortunately it hadn't been bad enough for stitches, he was glad it brought back memories. The strange thing about Joker's scars was that the stitches were the only thing he remembered clearly about them. Stitches and pain, he remembered how they felt knotting in and out of his cheek, holding it together. He had vivid memories of removing the stitches as well, he could still see the bloody marks they made as he cut and pulled at them prematurely. Everything before that was blank. Joker was beginning to consider picking the scab off his lip. A possible new scar for his "collection", but then he heard the door open.

Harleen entered the room, Joker's back was facing her. She bit her lip, worried by how bad his injuries may be. She stepped in front of him, one eye was nearly swelled shut and surrounded by a dark purple bruise that continued down his cheek. His lips were somewhat swollen and also displayed a bruise beneath them. She wondered if the nurse had really done anything for him. Harleen felt a lump in her throat.

"You look nice to-day," Joker looked up at Harleen.

"Thanks Mr. J, I wish I could say the same for you," she brushed a lock of blond and green hair out of his face. She felt such an urge to touch him. "I brought you something,"

Harleen turned and pulled his makeup out of her bag. "This should make you feel better," she opened the package for him.

"Thanks," he said eagerly grabbing the white paint and smearing it all over his face, not bothering to be careful with his bruises.

"I didn't bring a mirror, do you, um need some help," she began unscrewing the lid from the black paint.

Harleen made smudgy circles around each eye, trying to be as gentle as possible with his injured one. She squirted red paint on her index finger when she had finished his eyes. She painted with her finger up each scar letting the paint extend a little higher then them for effect. The doctor added more paint to her finger before coloring his top lip and then the bottom. Butterflies rose in her stomach at the feeling of him beneath her fingertips. It felt good, she paused before with drawing her finger.

Harleen wiped her fingers on a tissue, "All done," she said quietly.

The make up made him look significantly different. She had never seen him like this, at least not in real life. His looked frightening and somewhat inhuman. Harleen liked the way Joker looked with face paint. Her heart was pounding so hard she could nearly hear it beating. She knew this was wrong, she just wanted to touch him again so badly. Neither of them said anything.


	10. Having Fun

Harleen stood motionless, trapped in between right and wrong. What was expected of her and what she desired. She wanted so badly to get close to him again, there was something about touching him that was so intoxicating to Harleen. It made her forget who she was, or pretended to be. The doctor stood in silence, unsure of what to do.

Joker patiently waited for her to respond. He knew exactly what was happening. His Harley Quinn had a choice to make. The Joker knew she wanted him, he watched her wear down slowly since the day they had meant and now she was given her opportunity to have him. There would be no going back after this.

Harleen was hoping Joker would make the first move, if he did she wouldn't feel quite as guilty. The doctor clearly knew this was wrong in so many ways. But her feelings were so hard to fight, especially now that his face was smeared with make up. It made him seem less like a deranged man and more like a character. The situation was beginning to lose it's reality in her mind.

Joker waited.

Harleen decided.

* * *

It wasn't long before Harleen was on his lap again, this time straddling his legs. He kissed her neck hungrily up and down. As she shifted on top of the Joker she was surprised to feel that her applying his make up had aroused him as well. Her lips found his, she intended on being gentle because of his wounds but Joker was rough. He bit her bottom lip and pushed his tongue into her mouth. The clown pulled her long, white lab coat off of her letting it drop to the floor. His hands traveled across her body feeling her feminine curves beneath the silky fabric of her blouse. Harleen was now feeling his scars as they kissed. She loved how they felt, it gave her chills and the insides of them felt even as better. Joker began to stand up, Harleen wrapped her arms around his neck deepening their kiss. He pressed her against a wall like the first time he had kissed her. But this time she didn't want to get away. He searched for the top button on her shirt while plunging his tongue roughly down her throat. Joker ripped her blouse open exposing a baby blue bra. She gasped for air when he finally broke the kiss, he kissed down her neck again. They slid down the wall and where he straddled her on the floor. Starting at her belly button he licked up to her neck in an animal like manner. She moaned which drove him further. Joker bit down hard on her exposed neck making a growling sound, Harleen tried not to scream. Suddenly he sat up quickly removing his Arkham Asylum jump suit before diving on her again. His mouth crashed painfully into her's but he ignored the pain. Groping for the waist band of her skirt he managed to tug it down to her knees. The Joker sat up again to completely remove them along with her panties.

Harleen lay on the floor trying to catch her breath, she knew what was coming as she watch Mr. J throw her underwear aside. Excitement mixed with fear built inside her. There was no stopping him, no going back. She squeezed her eyes shut she wanted this. Harleen knew later regret would set in but at the moment it was no where to be found. Something about this man was making her a different person entirely. Maybe what the Joker said was true about who people really are, maybe this was who she really was because Dr. Harleen Quinzel would have never put herself in this situation.

Joker pulled his boxers down around his ankles he licked his scars, Harleen held her breath. It hurt more then she had expected. She gasped in pain as he thrust into her. She drug her nails across the cement floor and heard one of them break against the hard surface. She arched her back in pain breaking out into a cold sweat. And just as quickly as they had began it was over. Harleen's intense pain dulled, she heard Joker giggling softly. Still laying on top of her he lifted his head and smiled at her.

"I take back what I said about you being bor-ing," he said lazily.

He got off her and began dressing. "Here," Joker said shooting her panties at her like a rubber band. "Wouldn't want any guards to seee," he laughed. "If ya think I look bad now,"

Harleen slid the underwear back on the stood the get her skirt and coat. She found herself dizzy and it hurt somewhat to walk. She pulled the black skirt up and went to gather up her stilettos laying on the floor.

Joker stood from behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, "How's Har-ley feeeelin?" he asked.

"Okay," she answered.

"Isn't fun," Joker twirled a lock of her curly blond hair in his fingers, "Isn't fun to just act on impulse, upset the order of things," he loosened his grip and sat down in his chair.

Harleen wanted to feel dirty, guilty, wrong but she couldn't. Right now she could not feel anything, beside the pain between her legs. It was as if right and wrong had lost all meaning to her. Without realizing it she was falling into to Joker's philosophies.

"Wanna hear a joke," Joker began, "What iiis the closest way to a man's heart, hm dunno?" Harleen shook her head. "Through his chest with a sharp knife!"

The doctor's numbness broke. It was alarming to her how rapidly the Joker caused her to switch emotions, yet she couldn't help herself. They both burst into laughter, Harleen laughed until tears were streaming down her face. She wasn't even sure why she found the joke so funny. Why was anything funny at this moment? She just lost her virginity to her patient, who was a criminally insane clown, on the floor of Arkham Asylum, while they were supposed to be having therapy. Nothing made sense around Joker. Harleen calmed down grabbing a tissue from her bag she began wiping the mess of red paint off her neck and face.

Joker sighed, "That was fun, we should hook up sometime ya know, outside of this uh, nut-house," Harleen looked confused, she was pretty sure the Joker was never going to be released. "I'd uh, give you my card buuut I don't have them back yet," he explained.

"Mr. J, what are you talking about?" Harleen questioned.

"Dooon't worry sweetheart," he patted her hand, "I'll know where to find yooouu,"

Joker looked towards the door, "Well," he smacked his lips. "I believe the guards are back, until we meet again Haarrley-Quin," the clown leaned across the desk and kissed her cheek. He left a cartoon-ish lipstick print on her cheek and left the room to meet the guards on the other side.

Harleen remained seated and confused, was he just delusional or did he mean what he was saying.

* * *

_Sorry it took a few days and its kinda short, but the sex scene was HARD to write and the chapter's short cuz i really wanted to get it out to you guys. Anyway hope you enjoyed, I'll start on chapter 11._


	11. Blood

Joker shut the door behind him, "Change of plans boys," he said to the men in stolen guard uniforms, "It just occured to me, that I have another uh, friend I need to say bye tooo. Uuunfortunently his shift doesn't start till niiiight time," he said in a sing song voice. "Sooo just try to uh, lay low till then kay,"

The fake guards nodded in unison at thier boss.

* * *

Harleen wiped of the new spot of face paint on her cheek. What a day this had been so far. After leaving the room she walked down the hall to a bathroom. Though walking still hurt, she wanted to be sure all of Joker's face paint was removed. Thankfully this bathroom was made for one person so no one would notice her examining herself in the mirror. Harleen looked in the mirror, the make up was gone. However the clown had left more obvious evidence of their therapy session. Several hickeys and a large bit mark trailed down her neck.

"Of all days to wear this top," she thought.

She looked at the bite mark more closely, it was the most prominent. The mark was puffy and swollen and looked as though it would bruise by the end of the day, great. Harleen buttoned her shirt up all the way managing to hide a few of Joker's marks on her body. Maybe she would go home "sick", no Dr. Leeland was angry with her, she had better not. The only thing she could do was go back to her office and hope nobody would notice.

She walked down the hall, still she didn't feel guilty. Maybe she had no reason to. After all Joker was just a man, she pondered if he even really belonged in an insane asylum. He was not really crazy just a little different, Harleenconvinced herself. She could not help but feel sympathy for him, she knew to well the pain of being alone. They were good for each other in that way, two individuals the world didn't understand. His circumstance were obviously worse then her's however. Was this love? The doctor had never been in love.

"Not love, sympathy," she told herself.

Harleen decided from now on she would have to control herself around her patient. She didn't understand her strong desire for physical contact with him was but it had to stop.

* * *

Later that night

Derek sat at the end of the hallway he was guarding. After the patients fell asleep everything became quiet. Tonight seemed more peaceful then usual. The night shift was fairly easy, none of the inmates had ever gotten to out of control with him. Except for that clown, but he was just annoying. Derek didn't feel bad at all for beating on him last night. The freak probably liked it, he thought. He knew he wouldn't get in trouble, who would defend the Joker. Derek thought back to the fight, if you could call it that, Joker didn't fight back at all. He just let the guard pound on him, laughing the whole time. That was disturbing to him. But he must have done something right. Derek had not heard a word out of the clown at all since his shift had began. He looked at his watch, he had misplaced his cell phone. It was almost midnight, he stood up glancing in at patients as he walked down the hall. The guard looked in Joker's cell, the clown looked asleep. The inmate in the adjacent cell slept as well. Derek turned to go back to his seat but something caught his eye. Joker, smiling broadly through the little window on his cell door, his face still smeared with make up. This made Derek jump, he had not heard him get up.

"Go back to bed Joker," said Derek through gritted teeth.

"Aaaand if I don't?" Joker cocked his head to the side. "Are you gonna maa-ke me?"

Derek clenched his fists. It would feel so good to beat the son of a bitch bloody again.

"Wanna hear a joke?" the clown asked.

"No,"

"How about a magic triiick," he offered.

"No!" Derek shouted.

"Hey," the clown began, "Look what I got!" Joker opened Derek's phone and waved it around giggling.

Enraged Derek dug the key out of his pocket, he swiped the card and the door unlocked with a soft click. He reached out his hand.

"Give it here," the guard tried to remain calm again.

Joker backed up to the back of the small room, stuck his tongue out at Derek and slipped the phone into his bright orange pocket.

"Don't make me take it from you clown," he raised his voice.

"Pleeease do," Joker lowered his voice, "Ya know I love to plaaaay rou-gh,"

The guard charged into Joker's cell. This time he intended on beating him out of consciousness.

"Ya wanna play c'mon," Joker taunted the man excitedly.

He grabbed the clown's collar, drawing back his fist when he found himself being slammedinto the wall beside them. Joker could hardly contain himself he shook with excitment. The thrill of catching a victim, he hadn't felt it in so long. It was not just the creative kill or the revenge. But watching a human spirit crumble before his eyes. The clown loved nothing more then a person's reaction to death. He saw who people really were when they knew in a fleeting moment they would no longer exsist.

Before Derek was able to shove Joker away from him a sharp pain wracked his whole body. In one quick motion Joker had pinned him against a wall and stabbed his neck with the shard of glass from weeks ago. The guards eyes widened, he could say anything, he was going to die he knew it. Joker took in the fear he saw in Derek's eyes. He savoured the moment, watching the man hang in between life and death. Watching Derek, the big tough guard fall to pieces. Joker wondered what he was thinking. If the man was married or had kids, who would miss him.

"Ya look frightened Derek," Joker turned his head to one side, "Is it the scars? Ya knooow, I wish I had time to uh, tell you how I got em, buuuuut," holding the guard up with one hand he pulled his cell phone out and looked at the time, "It's gettin laaate,"

Derek's breath began ragged as he felt hot blood oozing out from beneath the glass in his neck.

Joker gave him a winning smile, "Goooodnight Derek,"

He dug the piece of glass further into his neck before draggingit horizontally across. It was more difficult then a knife, the glass was not as sharp, which made it even better. Derek gasped sharply as life escaped him. The pain was unreal and the sound of his neck being ripped apart added to his pain. Thick, red blood burst out of the cut spraying Joker's face, he laughed. The man took one more painful breath before he let his body slid to the floor. The last thing he was Joker's painted face. The clown giggled and shook the blood from his face and hair likea dog. It splattered and covered the wall in tiny dots. He licked his lips tasting the metallic flavor of artial spray.

"Oh, almost for-got," Joker layedthe cell phone on Derek's body, "Thanks for letting me borrow it," he said emphasising the "t" at the end of "it". He stood there for a moment, as if the bleeding corpse would respond "you're welcome".

Joker existed the cell picking up Derek's key as he went. He never knew he may use it sometime. By now Joker's henchmen were waiting for him. They still wore guard uniforms but had added clown masks. One handed Joker a gun, he did not enjoy them as much as knives but tonight they needed to move quickly. The two clown henchmen had spent all day mapping out Arkham, finding out where every guard would be stationed. It was not going to be a difficult escape.

* * *

Harleen asleep in bed, not a peaceful sleep however. Mr. J had been the main character in her dreams all night. She had done her best during the day to keep the clown off her mind, but now her thoughts wondered uncontrollably. Harleen could not even decipher what the dreams were about exactly. They were wild and chaotic, filled with color. Scenes changed rapidly in her head but no matter where Harleen was in her dream The Clown Prince of Crime was always by her side. At this particular moment her dream it was becoming terribly erotic. She twisted in bed and let out a moan in her sleep. Suddenly her phone rang jolting her out of her deep slumber. Taking a moment to realize where she was she stumble towards the living room to get it.

"Hello," she said rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"This is Dr. Leeland," the voice began, "I'm calling to inform you the Joker has escaped,"


	12. Hostages

Harleen had spent hours on the phone with Dr. Leeland and Commissioner Gordon. Being the Joker's therapist the police needed to question her in case she knew of any of his plans. She assured them she did not and had no idea of his plans to escape. They asked Harleen the same questions several different ways, she knew they were not convinced. She was mostly telling the truth. The doctor had no idea what her patient was going do but they hadn't maintained a normal doctor-patient relationship like she told Gordon.

Dr. Leeland got back on the phone after the Commissioner, "Sorry for the in convince Dr. Quinzel, when a patient escapes their doctor is the first one we speak to. I suppose that will be all, good bye doctor,"

"Bye," Harleen replied softly.

She drug herself back to her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the floor. There was no use trying to go back to sleep, she thought. It was finally setting in that Mr. J was gone, she wondered if she would ever see him again. At that moment she realized how much she needed that man. Harleen wished she had not spent so much time fighting it. Now he was out on the streets of Gotham City, she hoped he was okay. Obviously the Joker was more then capable of defending himself and yet the doctor was feeling sick with worry. What if he was hurt, what if someone shot him or the Batman found him? She closed her eyes letting tears drip down her face and onto her flannel pajamas. Dr. Leeland said he and his henchmen killed a nurse and four guards. He also murdered the man who guarded his cell. Harleen knew that's who beat him, he was probably just defending himself. Her poor Joker was so misunderstood. More tear drops escaped her eyes as she began to sob. Harleen sank to the floor, resting her head on her knees she cried. She wished he were here with her right now. At that moment Harleen promised herself that if she ever saw Mr. J again, she would show him just how much he meant to her.

* * *

Joker did not have any specific "hideout", that would make him to easy to find. Instead he and his henchmen moved around staying abandoned buildings. The narrows of Gotham were full of them. People had began leaving Gotham for safer cities to live, first the Scarecrow tried to destroy the city and then Joker began blowing it up in various places. Some Gothamites decided they did not want to know what was coming next. Thus leaving apartment buildings and houses, as well as businesses in the narrows standing empty. Joker's residence before being admitted to Arkham Asylum was an abandoned motel, he decided to head there after breaking out.

He found the room he had been staying in. The clown had few material possessions, they were hard to keep in his line of "work". His things consisted of knives, a few changes of clothes and face paint. His living area held a mattress in the corner and a shadeless lamp sitting beside it. He opened up the closet in which he kept his stuff. The clothing and face paint were still there. Joker grabbed a collared shirt, a tie, a vest and a pair of pants. All of his apparel was basically the same, same color scheme and with lots of miss-matched patterns. He only had one trench coat though, he was pissed it was still sitting in Arkham Asylum's basement along with several knives. Oh well, Mr. J knew he would be paying Arkham a visit in the near future.

When he had entered the building earlier he had noticed a lack of henchmen. It was understandable, most of them had probably been arrested, that or dead. And the insane asylum was the perfect place to find new recruits. Joker preferred the crazies as henchmen over the gangsters. They tended to be more loyal as well as cheap. Joker loved making up ridiculous promises to them so that they would work for him, it was fun. They would believe anything he said. Even if his offer was completely random, he told one man if he joined him he'd give him a map to candy mountain or the time he told someone he was a magical genie. His favorite one was when he told a guy he was Christopher Nolan and he was giving him a part in his movie as a henchmen. Good times.

After dressing Joker walked across the hall to his "office". This room was terribly cluttered with junk, in the middle sat a desk also cluttered with meaningless items. He made his way through the mess and found a small television on the other side of the room. He had to see what the news was reporting on his escape. Thankfully it worked, after flipping through a few channels he found Gotham City's new station. Kicking some junk out of his way Joker sat down crossed legged in front of the set like an excited little kid.

Shortly after the weather, a bleach blond newscaster began reporting on the upcoming holiday of Halloween and how to keep your kids safe while trick-or-treating. No warnings that a homicidal clown was on the loose, no fear, no chaos, no shots of himself making faces at Arkham's security cameras. Calmly Joker stood up, he picked the TV off the floor and then let it drop. It busted into pieces on the concrete floor, puffs of black smoke wafting off it.

"Oh booooys," he called stepping of what was left of the television. "I've got a job for yoooou,"

* * *

Harleen woke up finding herself on the floor. The last thing she remembered is laying there in tears, apparently she had dozed off. The doctor decided not to go to work today. She was having enough trouble forgetting Mr. J. She sat up noticing her tote bag beside her dresser had fallen down spilling notebooks, paper work and containers of unused Joker paint onto the floor. Harleen gathered it up and set the bag up right. She stared at the face paint curiously.

She picked up the paints and put them in the bathroom. After pulling her hair back she unscrewed the white lid and smeared the paint inside onto her face. Harleen followed it up by smearing the black and red on as well. She let down her hair messing up her blond curls. It didn't look right without the scars, she grabbed a wash cloth and wiped it off. She put more white paint on her fingers, this time she spread the make up more evenly and just to the edges of her face. She dabbed the red on her lips carefully so she didn't mix it with the white. Now for her eyes, she contemplated how to make them differ from Mr. J's. She found a grey eye pencil with her own make up, with it she gently drew around her eyes making a shape to paint in. She made circles around her eye's somewhat like Joker did but then extended a curved shape up her temples. After that Harleen connected the circle shapes across the bridge or her nose. After filling it in with black paint it looked like a domino mask across her eyes. She examined herself in the mirror, not bad. Harleen couldn't help but smile. She began to giggle looking at her clown face in the mirror. Her giggles turned to uncontrollable laughter and she didn't know why.

Flopping on to her bed she sighed, that was fun, she could see why Mr. J liked face paint. Mr. J, she wondered what he was doing right now. Why did he have to leave Arkham? Sure it wasn't the most fun place to be but at least he was safe there, somewhat. It still enraged her to think about him being brutally beaten by some asshole guard with a grudge. At least at Arkham he was with her, she wondered if he was missing her now. Harleen was not sure if he was capable of love. He probably loved her too. She hoped so, but what did it matter now, she thought. Knowing she may never see him again, the first man she ever felt anything for. She tried to stop thinking about it before she began to cry and mess up her make up. She got out of bed and stood by her apartment window. Gazing out of the huge, monster of a city she lived in she wondered where Joker was in it.

* * *

Jason Utsler started working for Joker about a month before the clown was arrested. That was a long time for an employee of the Joker since he had a habit of killing his own men. But he paid well.

Jason was in his late twenties, he'd been in and out of gangs since he was seventeen but the Joker's was the most interesting. Besides his boss's appearance, there were other oddities when working for the Clown Prince of Crime. Joker liked to rename all his henchies, all of the names had to do with clowns, cards or circuses. Jason had been renamed Spades. They also had to wear clown masks or paint there faces when working. No one ever questioned their boss on his strange ways. Unless they had a death wish. Jason had seen the Joker do some sick things to people. Like that pathetic bat wannabe, Brian. He would never get those stains of his shirt from carrying the corpse away. He made a mental note not to be present for his boss's little show tonight.

The police and Arkham Asylum had not released anything about Joker's escape. The citizena of Gotham were unaware. The Gotham City Police wanted to find out more on the situation before publicly announcing that the clown was back on the streets. Joker had other ideas. He sent Jason and three other henchmen, Chuckles, Ace and Mime to find a hostage. He told the four to take there time, his victim needed to be just right. They were not sure exactly what that meant but nobody was going to ask. It had taken all day, they hoped he wouldn't be angry.

"I say," began Ace, "We get a kid," he removed his smiling clown mask as he jumped out of their van.

"Dude it's ten o'clock at night man, where the fuck do you think we gonna find a kid just wonderin' around alone?" Chuckles asked.

The group headed into a bar for a break.

"Well maybe we could've if we hadn't pissed around all fuckin' day," Ace replied, "I'm just sayin' a little girl would get people's attention. That's what the boss would want,"

Spades shook his head, "We don't what the boss wants,"

"We should get a dude," suggested Chuckles, "Ain't nothin' more disturbing then seein' a grown man cryin' around and pissin' himself with fear,"

Mime did not give his opinion, his nickname was appropriate.

Across the bar was a stage where a band was setting up their equipment for a show.

"Wooo check that," Chuckles hit Mime in the arm spilling some of his beer.

"What?" asked Spades.

"On stage over there man," he pointed to tall blond setting up a microphone stand, "Ooo baby, can we hang around for autographs?" he took off his skull cap and ran his fingers through his tiny braids.

Suddenly Mime spoke up, "Let's kidnap the bitch," he said in a deep voice.

Just as Mime said this the lead singer stepped out on stage wearing a purple corset top and carrying a bright green bass guitar. It was like a sign.

"That's who we're getting," said Spades.

The others agreed, they made their way closer to the stage planning their attack.

"Can we take blondie to?" Chuckles asked quietly with a laugh.

The henchmen slipped backstage, Ace searched for a quick exit for them. Spades spotted her first, she had came off stage again and now sat in the corner trying to fix a broken guitar strap.

"Here's the plan," Spades whispered to his "co-workers", "We take her out with this," he held the neck of a guitar, "Ace will be at the backdoor with the van, we just carry her out, it'll be easy,"

He handed the guitar to Mime. Mime was the oldest and most experienced gang member of the four. He had taken several hostages before, this was no big deal for him. Taking the guitar in his hands he walked up behind his victim and swung it at her head. Mime hit her hard, just hard enough for her to lose consciousness and she fell limp on the floor.

* * *

_Just a little author's note : the girls in this chapter are from a friend of mine's fanfiction Just a Sad Song with Nothing to Say (by Sweet Coldkiss). Read it._

_Also I wanted to point out Jason "Spades" Utsler's last name. Utsler is Shaggy 2 Dope's (Insane Clown Posse) real last name, I thought it would be fitting since I'm writing about insane clowns._

_The map to candy mountain is a Charlie the Unicorn reference._

_On the off chance you haven't seen the Dark Knight (why the hell not it was the best movie I've ever seen!) Brian the bat wannabe was a dude dressing up as batman, Joker kidnaps him then sends a video to the news of him tormenting Brian. (and then he kills him and hangs him off a building, SPOILER sorry)_

_Last thing I promise: Joker trying to watch himself on TV and then destroying the tv is my montage to Tim Burton's Joker (if you haven't seen that you just don't even know and I'm to tired to explain *passes out from excessive typing*)._


	13. No Rules

Joker sat on his bare mattress staring at his hostage. He had tied the unconscious young women to a chair and placed her back facing to him. He wanted her to be surprised when she regained consciousness.

Suddenly the hostage lifted up her head. Pain soared throughout her body as she did. Confused she looked around the room trying to move as little as possible to avoid more discomfort. The room was dimly lit and filthy. Faded wallpaper peeled of the walls, all the carpet was ripped up revealing wood. She could literally see the dirt collecting on it.

"Where the fuck am I," she breathed.

"My room," a voice behind her said.

"Oh shit, is it that guy from the mall," she thought tightly closing her eyes.

Joker stepped in front of her, sensing his presence before her the girl slowly opened her eyes. She gasped at the clown.

"W-who are you," she tried not to sound afraid.

"Well, I'm the Joker," he sounded somewhat surprised she did not recognize him, she must not be from Gotham, "The uh, better question iiiiisss who are yooou,"

"Why does it matter, you kidnapped me,"

Joker shook his head, "Aaac-tu-ally, I didn't, I uh, ordered some guys to bring me a hostage, but uh, I didn't di-rect-ly kidnap you," he explained as if it made any difference, "What's your naaame sweet heart?" he gently removed her bangs from her heavily lined eyes.

Flinching at his touch she replied, "Adelyn,"

Noticing the physical contact bothered her Joker stepped behind her and began stroking her hair, "I like your haair, it's pret-ty," he twisted a dark purple strand of it on his finger, "Ya feelin' okay Aad-die?"

She nodded yes though she clearly was not.

"Mime whacked ya preeetty hard," he placed his hands on her shoulders and then ran them down her arms, he leaned closer to her, "Wanna have some fun?" he whispered to her.

Adelyn wasn't sure what he meant by that, she did not want to find out.

"Just pro-mise me ya won't try to run," the clown untied the ropes around her waist that connected her to the chair, "Ace!" he yelled. A short man in a clown mask appeared in the doorway holding a camera.

He handed the camera the Joker then hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Adelyn gasped has the Joker pulled her to her feet, which were bound together as well as her hands.

"Now," he began, lowering his head to meet her eyes, "You and I are gonna make a uh, lit-tle video for the cit-i-zens of Gotham, kay," he moved her so she was no longer facing him, "Smile for the cam-er-aaa," Joker held her tightly her waist and held the camera with his free hand, "Hellooo Gotham!" he said excitedly after pressing the record button, "I'm baaaa-ack,"

* * *

Harleen blew on her freshly painted nails. She had spent most of the day napping, she supposed it was her work finally catching up with her. Still she liked her job it was just sometimes stressful, especially lately. She felt better now though. As she examined her red nails she realized she had not eaten all day. Harleen hopped out of bed and looked in the mirror. All her clown makeup was smeared from sleeping with it on her hair was a mess to. She grabbed a couple of hair scrunches from the bathroom and put her blond curls up in two high pigtails.

She searched through her fridge, "Hmmm," she said, "Icecream,"

Why not? She was an adult, capable of making her own rules. She could eat ice cream at midnight if she wanted to. Once she got a big bowl of chocolate ice cream she sat down on the couch to watch tv. She found an old cartoon filled with senseless violence. Harleen giggled at the cat blowing up a dog. Her parents would have never let her do this as a little girl.

Then it occurred to her, she didn't need to answer to them anymore. She put a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, what had she been thinking. No longer was Harleen Quinzel a child. She had spent all her life considering what her parents wanted her to do. She exhausted herself trying to live up to their expectations. Now she was a grown women, miles away from her mother and father and she still wondered what they would have her do. When she bought clothes, what she ate, when she went to bed, when she got up. Would mom let her wear this shirt, would dad like her hair this way? She thought of her parents before making all of her decisions.

No more, she thought. From now on she was going to do what she wanted, when she wanted. And mom and dad couldn't stop her. She laughed, it felt so freeing to do what Harley wanted. She burst into laughter, now the cartoon animals on television were shooting each other.

* * *

"As fun as Ark-ham was I started thiiinking about how much I was probably missed. I mean what would Bat-sy do with out meee," Joker continued recording himself, "I made the sacrifice for you Batman," he burst into uncontrollable laughter, "Aaanyway," he sighed, "This iiis Adelyn, say hi to all the peop-le, Addie dearest," he press the zoom out button so she was in the shot.

Adelyn did not respond, Joker roughly pulled her closer to him, "Aaaw it's okay," he rubbed her back, "Addie's just a liittle nervous, what with being held here against her wiiill and all,"

The clown continued to talk excitedly to the camera, Adelyn stopped paying attention to what he was saying. She had became to distracted by the blood stains on his green vest. She wondered if her blood would be added to the collection, what did he want with her anyway?

Joker began wrapping up his little "show", "Will Gotham be destroyed?!" he said in a dramatic voice, "What will happen to Adelyn? Will the Batman save her? Tune in next week to find out!" Joker pressed stop, "All done," He said triumphantly, walking out of the room he tossed the camera to Spades, "Get this on the news will ya,"

Unfortunently for Addie he came back to the room and shut the door.

"Honestley Addie," he began walking towards her, "I reeeally don't believe you're that shy," refering to the video he had just made.

He stepped behind her, noticing her corset was pulled up somewhat exposing part of a tattoo on her lower back.

"What's thiis," Joker pulled up Addie's top further, revealing a revolver with a rose wrapped around it, "Ooo it's a guuun, nice," he wrapped his arms around her and began pulling at the laces on her corset, "Got any more?"

"Get off," she pulled away and faced him.

He smiled at the girl who was attempting to be brave. He stepped toward her, she couldn't run her ankles were tied, hopping would not get her very far. So she hit him as hard as she could in the face with her bound hands.

"Damn it! Why did you do that?!" she thought terrified.

To her surprise he started to laugh, horrified she tried to back up as much as the ropes allowed. Which was not far, the girl fell back on the mattress.

"Perfect," she thought.

She struggled to get off the bed, Joker walked up to her again. Adelyn kicked him between the legs with her boots. The clown doubled over continuing to laugh.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Adelyn began to panic realizing nothing she did was working.

"I-It's just that," Joker said amidst his laughter, "It's so funny, even if you managed to escape then what, hm. Outside that door is myyy henchmen, your hands and feet are tied Mizzzz Adelyn, can you say gang ra-pe," he giggled, "I gotta hand it to ya though, tryin' to uh, take con-trol like that, but the thing iisss," he dove on top of her pined her arms down, "You're not-ah," Joker's voice became low and serious.

Just then the door opened, "Boss I- woah," Ace stepped in surprised to see Joker straddleing Addie.

"You're interrupting Ace, I don't like that. Not. One. Bit," Joker pulled a hand gun out of his pocket and shot Ace in the head.

Ace dropped to the floor, a puddle of blood quickly began forming. Adelyn screamed.

Joker rolled his eyes and climbed off the screaming girl. He pulled her up and put her back in the chair beside them.

The clown tied a rope around her securing her to the chair. Joker walked up to Ace's body and nudged it with his foot.

"You ruined all the fun jackass," he leaned down speaking to Ace's dead face, "Can somebody clean this up," he yelled stepping over the corpse.

* * *

The next morning Harleen woke up on the couch, the television still on. She found the remote and turned it off just as the phone rang.

"Hello," she answered it cheerfully.

"Dr. Quinzel? This is Commissioner Gordon," said a voice on the phone.

"Hey, call me Harley," she smiled twisting one of her pigtails.

"Um okay, uh I called because your boss said you weren't at work yesterday. Are you alright?" Gordon asked.

"Oh I'm fine, just needed a day off is all," she replied.

"Okay, while I have you on the phone can I ask you a few more questions?" the Commissioner asked.

"You just did," she giggled, "I would love to talk Commissioner but I'm gonna go get ready for work. Buh bye," she hung up.

Harleen did not want to answer any more questions about Mr. J. She feared that the whole truth would eventually come out. Besides she did need to get ready to go, she planned on going shopping before heading to work. Harley did not have a thing to wear.

* * *

_**Read this please...**_

_Adelyn belongs to Sweet Coldkiss, it's my way of saying thank you for having Gerard Way fuck me in your fic Sweet Coldkiss, thank you oh so much!_

_I wanna make it clear however that this fic won't be going Joker/Adelyn (sorry Sweet Coldkiss), I know it looks that way but it's not. I think that Joker thinks of very specific ways to break people down, with Adelyn it's through physical contact. Gatting raped/molested is a really scary prospect for a women, maybe even more than death. Besides that I can see the Joker being overly tactile._

_"The guy from the mall" is in Just a Sad Song with Nothing to Say, he's a perv Adelyn encounters at Orange Julios (and is a true story)._

_Sorry I didn't go really in-dept with Joker's video, I was having trouble thinking of a villainous speech for him since it was clear in the dark knight, he doesn't make plans. And as Alfred said (in his kickass accent) "Some men just wanna watch the world burn". Joker is an agent of chaos, he doesn't want money or power just anarchy and chaos. So what would he say to Gotham?_

_The Harleen/Harley represents her transformation, example: Harley had nothing to wear. Meaning her closet was filled with Harleen's clothing, the things her parents approved of._

_Oh and old cartoons are the shit, so filled with violence and cross-dressing!_


	14. Appropriate Discussions

Harley strode into Arkham Asylum four hours late, she didn't care.

"Good morning," she smiled at a guard removing her large sunglasses.

On her way to her office she met Dr. Leeland in the hall.

"There you are," her boss exclaimed, "You should have called if knew you wouldn't be here,"

"Uh sorry?" Harleen went into her office followed by Dr. Leeland.

"Dr. Quinzel I expect you to be a little more professional in the future," it was clear this was not just about Harleen's absence from work.

"She's still pissed I stuck up for the Joker," Harley thought, "Call me Harley," she said out loud.

"What?" Dr. Leeland asked.

"Dr. Quinzelis so impersonal, my name is Harley," she spun around in her chair.

Dr. Leeland eyed the woman spinning behind her desk, something was different. Harleen wore a bright red wrap dress beneath her lab coat. It cut into a less then modest v neck. Her make up was different to, Dr. Leeland did not recall Dr. Quinzel, or Harley, wearing any at all. Now she wore a bold shade of lipstick which matched her dress as well as dark black eye liner. Harley stopped spinning.

"Ooo I'm dizzy," she giggled.

"Well, doctor," began Leeland glancing at her watch, "you were supposed to be in therapy with Jonathan Crane five minutes ago,"

"Mmm-kay," Harley responded applying a little more lipstick before heading out the door.

Her new high heels clicked across the floor as she walked.

* * *

Joker and Spades were on their way to Harley's apartment. Joker had a henchman follow the doctor home from work one night so he would know where to find her.

Joker sat in the back seat of the van doing card tricks. The clown could not remember if he had a license or not, so Spades drove. It was not that he refused to break the law (obviously), he just didn't want to call much attention to himself today. And his driving would do just that. Joker tend to drive much like his mental state, fast, all over the rode, running red lights and abruptlystopping when he felt like it. Today he had to much to do and couldn't risk being caught. Today he was going to pay a visit to his Harley Quinn. Though he was not sure why he cared to check up on her. He just didn't feel finished with her yet. In Arkham,Harley was slowly coming around to the "dark side", then he broke out. He was curious to see how she reacted. The Joker thought of her confused and sad curled up in a corner. He chuckled to himself.

She had been like arts and crafts at a summer camp. Except the camp was a mental institution and the craft was a human life. That made it even more fun. Everyday he carefully added something else to her. He loved watching the little changes in his doctor. She had almost made Arkham Asylum bearable, she was something to look forward to. Something to think about. He often thought of her while sitting in his cell, that is what he would do to her that day.

Spades parked on the side of the rode by Harley's building.

"Here it is," Spades said, "Should I come in to boss?"

"No, no. Har-leyand I need ta be alooone," he picked up the purple roses beside him. He had his boys hold up a flower shop earlier.

The henchman pulled a note out of his pocket, "This is her apartment," he explained handing the note over, "Ace wrote it down,"

Ace had been the one to follow Harley, now he was dead. Spades tried not to get to attached to his co-workers. He understood men didn't last long working for the Clown Prince of Crime. He and Ace were not close. It made it easier for Spades to dispose of the body.

"Thank you Spades," Joker hopped out of the van and carelessly strode into the building.

Spades watched Joker disappear into the apartment complex as if he weren't a wanted man. Just dropping by to say hello to his girl. He would never understand the Joker.

* * *

The hallways of the apartment building were empty. Joker easily picked the lock on Harley's door and let himself in.

"Ha ha ha Haar-ley," he called as he slowly shut the door behind him, "Anybody home?"

It occurred to Joker that he had never asked her about a significant other or children.

Everything was quite, he searched through the rooms. Nobody was home.

He was somewhat disappointed, hopingHarley's world would be far to shattered to go back to work. Then he noticed the bathroom light was on. Looking inside he found she wasn't there, but their was still something very interesting on the counter top. Face paint, red black and white face paint sat open on the vanity. A wash cloth covered with the make up laid beside the paint containers. Maybe he had gotten to her. He took off one of his purple leather gloves and dipped his finger in the red paint. Then he scrawled a message for his Harley Quinn on the mirror. _Missing ya, Mr. J XOXO _he wrote. He laid the flowers beside the clown make up.

He slid his glove back on and walked back out into Harley's living room. Curious to see if the news was showing his "home video" yet, he turned on the TV. They were. Proudly he watched himself, striking fear into the hearts of Gotham citizens, at least the ones who were watching. He loved it. Fear put him in control.

Joker smiled at the purple haired girl pressed against him. The look of fear in her hazel eyes was priceless, he could watch it all day. But Spades was waiting outside and Adelyn was waiting at home.

Locking Harley's door again he stepped out into the hall.

* * *

Harley wasn't paying much attention to her patient. She sat with her feet propped up on the desk in between she and Jonathan, concentrating on a doodle of she and Mr. J. The pages of her notebook were quickly filling with his name. His name in bubble letters or surrounded by hearts. She even wrote Mrs J a few times.

"Are you even listening?" Jonathan sighed. Harley failed to respond, "I suppose that is a no," he mumbled.

He sat back in his chair crossing his arms. This wasn't like Dr. Quinzel. Jonathan had always been quite impressed by her ability as a psychiatrist. She was never late, she paid attention, asked questions and took notes. What had happened, maybe what the Joker had told him was true...

"Dr. Quinzel?" he tried again.

"Yeah," she stuck her tongue out in concentration.

"I said are you listening?"

"Of course I am Jonny," she continued drawing.

Jonathan did not approve of the nickname.

Once in the rec room Jonathan had gathered the courage to speak to the clown. Even without the war paint those scar sent chills up his spine. His curiosity with the criminal mind outweighed his fear however and he decided to start a conversation. It was not very informative, Joker rambled about The Batman and something about weird ventriloquist dummies. At some point Dr. Quinzel became the focus of their talk. Joker bragged that he had "banged" (as he so eloquently put it) his doctor. He told Jonathan everything, making sure to include every single erotic detail. The former doctor found it hard to believe, no matter how manipulative the clown was said to be. Dr. Quinzel would never do such a thing.

Now as he watched Harleen doodling in her notebook. Face full of make up, cleavage peeking out of her low cut dress, he knew something had happened. Something had changed. He decided to question her.

"I heard the Joker escaped," he said, this caught Harley's attention.

She looked up at him, "Yes, how did you know?"

"A nurse told me," he responded.

Nurses were not supposed to discuss such things with patients but most did with Jonathan. Since he had worked as a psychiatrist at Arkham, most pitied him that he was reduced to this state, even though it was his fault. Besides he was cute and without his fear gas basically harmless. The female nurses often spoke to him as though he still worked there.

"How do you feel about that doctor," he leaned forward.

"I don't think that is um, appropriate to discuss," Harley sat up, asserting herself as the authority again.

"Understandable," he nodded, changing his tactics, "I spoke with the Joker in the rec room. He must have been a fascinating patient,"

"Yeah," Harley laughed.

"Something funny?" Jonathan asked.

"It's nothing, uh where were we?" she tried to change the subject.

"Joker spoke highly of you, of course some things he said did concern me..."

Harley froze. What did he mean by that? Did he know?

"Like what?" she asked cautiously.

"I don't think it would be appropriate to discuss," Jonathan shook his head.

* * *

_Happy (belated) Dark Knight Day everyone!!!_

_I read somewhere that when Heath Ledger (RIP) showed Christopher Nolan how he was going to do the Joker's voice he rambled about ventriloquist dummies. (In the Joker voice)_

_So I know it's cliche but I absolutely LOVE the idea of the Joker driving Harleen Quinzel crazy. *thinks of that Britney Spears song* (Damn, it's sad i remember the words :( ). Anyway I toyed around with him kidnapping her, holding her against her will, kinda like Tim Burton Joker did to Vicki Vale. But then I was watching the batman cartoon where Harley tells how she met Joker and all that, and I realized that's what I love so much about the pairing. They are both completely out of there minds! So I thought what the hell and I made Harley lose it. _

_I think that in Harley's madness she becomes very child-like because of her upbringing. Her parents wouldn't let her have much of a childhood. So she starts doing weird childish things like eating ice cream, watching cartoons, spinning in those rad desk chairs (okay I do all that)._

_I'd also like to say that Harleen Quinzel is not completely gone... yet. For example the ending of this chapter, she fears that people will find out what she and Joker did. Don't worry she'll come to a point where she won't care but not yet._

_And finally Jonathan Crane, I had to include him cuz Cillian Murphy as the scarecrow was sex. But that's not the only reason I added him. The other reason is cuz someone needs to know about Joker and Harley. It's the only opportunity for me to let Dr. Quinzelcome out in the new Harley. Which is (I think) important. It gives more of a distinction between Harleen and Harley. That way it's more dramatic when she really goes off the deep end._

_Well I am now all excited for the next chapter after watching TDK, it should be better as I'm all inspired now!_


	15. More Interuptions

**Thank you to my sister for proof reading for me, my mind is always somewhere else when I do it. My story would make no sense if it weren't for you.**

* * *

He knew, Jonathan knew. Harleen felt sick. Why would Joker tell anyone? Damn him and his ego.

On the other hand maybe he didn't, maybe Joker had only insinuated something to him. Now Jonathan was just trying to find out what really happened. She hoped.

"Your right it's not," she said softly closing her notebook, which was filled with proof.

Unfortunately for her, Jonathan was used to sitting on the other side of the desk which separated them. She felt as though he could see right through her. Even if she tried to appear indifferent, he still knew.

"Does this mean you're going to report me?"

"No, I don't have any proof besides Mr. J's word. He said that's your pet name for him," he smiled smugly, "Harley Quinn,"

Harleen checked the time on her wristwatch. Their session was over.

"I will see you next week Mr. Crane," she fled from the room.

"It's Dr. Crane," he shook his head.

The information the clown gave Jonathan did give him some leverage. That is if he could get anyone to believe him. Being a patient in a mental institution didn't give a person much credibility. But it may not be impossible to make someone believe it.

He wondered what he could gain from this. Obviously something like freedom was out of the question, but there were other things he wanted. He decided to think on it.

* * *

Adelyn sat in Joker's bedroom. She had no choice since she was tied to a chair. She moaned, her head was throbbing hard from lack of sleep and caffeine. And what time was it? She looked around the room, no clocks in hell. But she supposed she had more important things to worry about. Like what would happen to her next. She tried to reassure herself that her band mates would call the police and they would come for her. But no one saw her being kidnapped, they would have no way of finding her. Besides what if her friends had been taken as well, or worse...

She didn't even know what the Joker wanted from her. Adelyn was just passing through the city. What reason could this freak possibly have for holding her hostage. She supposed she was just picked at random for whatever the hell the clown was trying to do, she didn't even know.

The girl looked towards the door, the floor before it was stained with blood. She stared at the large brownish red stain, assuming that would be her next stop. Unless her captor... no she didn't even want to contemplate his plans for her.

The ropes on her wrists dug painfully into her skin. Again probably the least of her worries, but hey, what the hell. Either she was going to be shot or fucked to death. Addie decided she had a right to complain about anything she wanted.

Just then the door flew opened hitting the wall, "Lucy I'm home!" Joker called.

Adelyn stared wearily at him.

"Get it, ya know Ricky Ricardo," he explained walking towards her, "Ever watched I Love Lucy?"

She didn't respond.

"No? Hey I broughtcha somethin," he dropped a bottle of Pepsi on her lap before undoing the ropes around her waist.

Addie picked up the bottle, "Is it poisoned?"

Joker giggled, "No, why would I do thaaat?" he tossed the ropes aside, "Here," he reached for the ropes on her wrists.

She withdrew them quickly, "Aren't you going to kill me anyway?"

He laughed again, "No no, I need you alive," Joker grabbed her hands and untied her, "See, you're bait-ah, preeeety little bat bait," he ran a gloved finger down her cheek.

Adelyn wasn't sure what that meant but it couldn't be good. Or perhaps it meant nothing at all. Her kidnapper was definitely not in his right mind, it didn't surprise her he was rambling about bats.

Caustiously she opened the soda, she at least expected him to shake it so it would shoot out in her face. It didn't. Drinking it she watched the clown who was now added more black paint to his eyes. She would have thought the makeup was cool if she didn't think he was going to murder her later.

"Do you have my friends here to?" she found the courage to ask.

"Nope," he smeared red make up across his lips, "I just needed one hos-tage, does it make ya feel special?"

She felt relieved.

Joker tossed the container of paint back into the closet. Then looked at Addie who was now rubbing her sore wrists.

What could he do to her next, it was such a bore waiting for Batsy to come. Joker made his presence known, Batman knew he had a hostage. So why wasn't the bat coming to save this poor damsel in distress?

She was boring him a little as well. It was not really her fault though. His little hostage hadn't slept in the past thirty six hours, she was to exhausted to be fearful. He decided he'd have to liven things up a bit. He gathered up three containers of face paint and half skipped over to Adelyn.

"Saw our video on the news tooday, ya looked good," Joker unscrewed the lid to the white paint.

"What are you doing," asked Addie.

"Nothing, just thought I'd give ya a little make o-ver,"

* * *

Harley came home from work. She tossed her things on to the counter top and headed for the bathroom to put some face paint on. The doctor in her knew this was crazy, it was obvious to anyone that this was not normal behavior. But Harley did not care. She loved the face paint, it was silly and fun, most of all it reminded her of Mr. J. Besides what she did after work was her business. No one needed to know that she went home and painted her face like a clown.

As she walked towards the bathroom she noticed something on the mirror. Writing, Mr. J had been here! She squealed with delight, he did care! And he left flowers, she picked up the dark purple roses.

She skipped out to the kitchen to find a vase for them. Harley could barely contain her excitement that he had not forgotten about her. Maybe he'd come back, maybe they could still be together.

She found a red vase underneath her kitchen sink, the colors clashed but it didn't matter. She filled it halfway with water and gently placed the flowers inside. She giggled admiring the gift from her wonderful Mr. J.

Humming happily she went back to the bathroom to apply her makeup. Everything that had happened at work just melted away. She completely forgot about her boss and Jonathan Crane. After finishing her face she danced to her closet and pulled out a Halloween costume.

She had bought it this morning. While she was looking at cosmetics, trying to find something similar to her clown make up she spotted it. The isle across from the make up section was filled with costumes for Halloween, at it's end was a jester's costume. She had to have it.

Harley opened up the packaging around her costume. She pulled it out and laid it across the bed. It was black and red with a white collar that hung past the chest. Little black and red diamonds were stitched on the left leg and right arm of the costume. Quickly she undressed and replaced her dress with the jester outfit. She pulled on the matching hat, gloves and boots the costume included. Harley proudly examined herself in the mirror. She wasn't sure where she would wear the fabulous outfit though. Maybe on Halloween she would wear it to work. That was sure to piss Dr. Leeland off.

She hoped Joker would drop by again, he'd love this.

* * *

Adelyn woke to a throbbing pain in her head. She did not remember going to sleep. The floor was littered with pieces of broken glass that looked a lot like the lamp in the room. She looked to the spot where it had sat, it was gone now. Lovely, she wondered how many knots she would have on the back of her head by the time she left here. If she left here. Addie didn't want to be so pessimistic in this situation, she just couldn't help it.

"Sorry," a voice said behind her.

She screamed a little, surprised she was not alone.

"You uh, started squirming when I was try-ing to do your make up sooo," Joker sucked his scars, "You needed the sleep anywaay,"

He walked over to the small window in his room and opened the blinds, no Batman.

"If I had a mirror I'd show ya," he stepped in front of her, "I thiiink it looks okaay,"

Adelyn felt the make up drying on her face. She assumed it matched his.

"There's just oooone thing that's missing," he licked his lips, "Scars, it really uh, completes the look,"

The hostage tensed, he said he wasn't going to kill her. Would getting a smile carved on her face kill her? She didn't want to find out.

"Ya wanna know how I got mine?" he asked eagerly.

He pulled a knife out of his pocket and flipped it opened. Addie's breathing quickened, she began looking around the room for an escape.

"Look at me," Joker said in a low voice.

He drew closer to her, holding her chin so she faced him.

"There was this girl," he started.

Adelyn tried to break free of his grasp.

"Shhh, calm down," the clown held her face with both hands letting the knife press against her cheek.

He stood over top of her legs and tilted her face up to look at him.

"We were in love buuuut she was already married. I didn't care though, one night her uh, husband was out with his friends. So I went to her house. But he came home early and caught me with her. Now, he waaaas noot a very understanding kinda guy," he licked his mouth, "He wasn't happy to find me with his wife, not one bit. So beat me up pretty bad. Theeen he tied me to a chair," he stroked Addie's hair, "Just like yooou, and then he got a knife. He came at me with the knife, he put the knife in my mouth," Joker slowly slid his knife into the girl's mouth beneath him, "The girl I loved was just screaming and crying, she begged him to stop but that, that just made things worse," the knife pushed against the corner of her mouth, "Aaaaaand then he-"

There was a crash outside the door. A hench man swung open the door.

"Boss," he yelled, " It's the Batma-"

Batman slammed the man's head into the door frame. Breathing heavily he glared at Joker.

"Batman," Joker began turning around, "Ya didn't call, didn't write," he walked closer to the bat, "Is theere uh, som-one else,"

The man responded by grabbing him and bashing his head into the wall. Joker slid to the floor laughing uncontrollably.

Adelyn felt as though she would have a panic attack as she watched her captor fighting with this guy in a bat costume. What the hell?! She decided she would never come back to Gotham.

Joker pulled himself to his feet only to be hit in the face by the masked vigilante. He picked the clown up by his collar and slammed him into the wall. Joker managed to knee him and shove the bat off himself then punched him hard in the mouth. Giggling with excitement he came at him with his knife.

Just then Batman pulled something out of his belt and tossed it at the Joker.

* * *

_Author's note:_

_I see Jonathan Crane as pretty condescending. I think he hates not being in power at the asylum he once worked at so if he finds anyway to regain (or feel as though he's regained) power, he'll use it._

_Ricky Ricardo's pretty awsome, I named my dog after him. And I Love Lucy kicks ass, I laughed when I picture Joker watching it._

_I really wanted to somehow add the original Harley Quinn costume into the story. As it will probably change into an edgier Nolanverse costume. But I really wanted that in there for a little bit since it's a big part of who the character is._

_I love writing Adelyn, sorry if you don't like OC. Generally I don't, but now Batman is here and he shall save her. Putting her back with her band and her boyfriend Frank Iero :P_

_Fight scenes are kinda difficult with Batman and Joker because Joker tends to only get the upper hand on him when Batman's unconscious or very distracted. Also Joker gets really freakin' excited when he's fighting Batman and he does a lot of laughing and what not. So I'm finding it hard to right. Next time I do a fight scene with them I'll try to make sure Joker has something to beat him with._


	16. A Nightmare

Harley pulled into work, she noticed a group of guards and doctors gathered around the flag pole that stood outside of Arkham. Strange.

She found a spot and parked her car. Turning her mirror to exaimine her reflection she adjusted her red sweater. Red was her new favorite color. It was bold and bright. The color was so much fun in contrast to her old clothes.

Harley stepped out of her car and decided to see what was so interesting about the flag pole. She looked through the crowd, it was difficult to tell what everyone was looking at.

"Hey," she said to nurse standing near her, "What's everyone looking at?"

"I don't know for sure," the woman began, "I was told the Batman came about a half hour ago. The guards didn't even see how he got in. But he had the Joker."

Her heart skipped a beat. Batman. She didn't know much about the masked vigilante. But she did know he didn't show much mercy on guys like Mr. J.

She could almost hear her own heartbeat rapidly increasing as she made her way through the people. Tears began filling her eyes as she thought about her poor baby. He must be badly hurt. Her heart ached for him, she new this would happen. Why did he ever leave Arkham? At least the Batman wasn't there to push him around.

And then she saw him. Her Mr. J. He was tied to the pole, a trail of blood dripped out of his mouth on to his shirt. A nurse injected sedative into his arm even though he was already unconscious.

"No," breathed Harley.

She tried to go to him but a guard caught her arm.

"I'm sorry miss," he explained, "you can't do that,"

"No! You don't understand that's my patient. Let me go," she cried her tears streaming down her face.

She struggled against the guard but it was no use. She wanted so badly to hold him and make everything okay. To see him smile.

"Mr. J!" she screamed hoping maybe he'd wake up.

She did not care that she was surrounded by others, she just wanted to get to him.

"Let's go inside doctor," another guard said.

Two guards pulled her away from the scene, from him. She cried openly unable to control her sobs. It hurt so much to see him like that. Worst of all what would they do to him after this.

* * *

_The pain was unreal, ripping through his face as if the knife was still there ripped his flesh apart. Ripping, that was the only way to describe that horrible sound it had made. It still rang in his ears. Blood was spilled everywhere. His blood. It gushed out the sides of his now widened mouth onto the floor, in his hair on this clothes. He felt the hot, sickening substance everywhere. _

_He never imagined it would end like this, alone on the floor, taking in the metallic scent of his own blood. Some of it poured into his mouth choking him but he couldn't move. He felt paralyzed as he let the blood drip into his throat._

_He tried to call for help but with every movement the pain became more intense. Besides his words would not form correctly with his mouth sliced into a wide grin. His body was beginning to grow cold and numb. Never had he felt so cold. Was this what death felt like? He knew now he was going to die._

_Tears mixed with the puddles of blood on the floor around him. __What a cruel world. He would die here, no one would ever know. This wasn't fair! Why him? He was so young. Why did he have to die...._

_Life is a joke, and here's the punchline, his thoughts raced as his body began to shut down. Innocence, purity HA! There is none, not if he can die here alone. It was every man for himself and only the strong survive._

_"It's your own fault Jack," he thought to himself, "You're just not strong enough,"_

* * *

Harley watched Joker. He remained in a drug induced sleep. He had been taken to the wing in Arkham Asylum with the comatose patients. The vegetables, she knew that's what he would become here. These were the patients no one wanted to deal with. So they drugged them into oblivion. Joker would be next.

It had been four hours since she first saw him this morning. She convinced the guards she was calmed down and they let her go see him.

She looked at his face, the nurses had removed all his make up. He looked so vulnerable, almost afraid. She wondered if he had nightmares. A tear escaped her eye, if he did he'd be having them for the rest of his life. Harley didn't how much sedative Mr. J had been given already. It was clear Batman drugged him first. Joker wouldn't be here any other way. But did the Arkham nurses care what would happen to him by adding to the drugs, no.

Harley sat down on the floor and continued to watch him. She didn't know whether to be angry or sad. She just felt hopeless and lost.

"Are you going to sit here all day Dr. Quinzel," a voice behind her said.

The voice belonged to her boss, Dr. Leeland.

Harley shrugged, "I just want to make sure no ones giving him more sedatives,"

"I'm afraid that is not up to you doctor," her boss replied.

She turned her head, "And why not, he is my patient. I'm sorry if I don't think a drug induced coma is the best thing for him,"

"That may not be the case much longer,"

"What do you mean?" Harley questioned.

"The Joker may be assigned to someone else, I'm not sure you can handle his case," Dr. Leeland responded.

"What!" she stood up, "Why? Because I have heart Leeland,"

"I'm not going to discuss this," Dr. Leeland crossed her arms.

"Why the hell not?" Harley said through gritted teeth.

"I think you should take the rest of the day off," suggested her boss.

"I don't want to,"

"No really, you need to go home. Get your things and go," Dr. Leeland looked her in the eye before walking down the hall.

"I don't want to," Harley grumbled, "I don't want to!" she began to sob resting her head against Joker's cell, "Oh Mr. J," she ran her hand down the glass that separated them.

Then she noticed something, his hand twitching. He moved slightly shifting in bed.

"Mr. J," she wasn't sure if he could hear her, "C'mon Mr. J wake up, it's me,"

Nothing.

"Damn it," she cursed.

Harley noticed a nurse walking down the hall.

"Excuse me," Harley called to her, "Hi, I'm the Joker's doctor and um, I wanted to make sure he didn't get anymore sedatives. I know I should be speaking to the head nurse about this but I'm kind of in a hurry to get home,"

"I'll see what I can do," the nurse replied.

"Thank you," she said before heading for her office.

She had so much to think about.

* * *

Harley drove way to fast and ran a red light, she was so distracted by Joker's situation.

She got home and headed straight for the closet.

"Rules," she said to herself, "it's like Mr. J said, they don't do any good in a city corrupt as this one,"

She went to her closet and pulled the costume off it's hanger.

* * *

Joker blinked trying to adjust to the bright light. He couldn't make out where he was. He lifted his hand, it felt heavy and numb. Bringing it up to his mouth he felt the sides of his face. No blood, no open wounds, just lumpy scars curving into a smile. And no make up on them, damn it.

He attempted to lift his head but found it nearly impossible. He flopped back down on a stiff pillow. Joker wracked his brain trying to remember what had happened. He remembered painting that girl's face and something about Batman.

The Batman! That was it he was fighting with Batman then he threw something at him and there was this smokey stuff and that was it. Everything went black. Wonderful the bat won. So he must be in Arkham, great.

This was a different room though. It seemed like a brighter shade of white and wreaked of disinfectant. It wouldn't be so bad if he he could only move! But his body felt foreign to him, it was still numb with sedatives.

Joker usually didn't sleep much. After escaping from Arkham he had not slept once. He could usually go about two or three days before dropping with exhaustion. He was often to busy to rest. Besides his dreams kept him awake. They were generally loud and chaotic with no meaning whatsoever. Violent too. His nightmares were even more awful, dark and bloody with no hope of salvation. Worst of all they were always about his past.

He hated it, but his drowsiness was begining to overcome him again.

Joker desperately fought the urge to sleep but the drugs they'd given him were winning. He began to slip into another nightmare.

* * *

Harley waited until the cover of night fall, it was about eleven o'clock. She had spent the day planning. Now uncertainty was begining to set in.

She parked her car along the rode, outside of Arkham. She stared up at the huge building on the hill. It looked so frightening at night. Immense and dark looming over her.

Her hands were shaking violently, she could feel them sweating beneath her her black and red gloves. She had to do this. She had told herself if she ever saw Mr. J again she would show him how much he meant to her. This was her chance. Harley loved him. She had to make sure nothing ever separated them again.

She looked down at the jester's hat on her lap. It was time to cause a little chaos. Make Mr. J proud. She put the hat on and stepped out of her car.

* * *

**Please read, I want my story to be understood!**

_Mwahahahaha I love cliffhangers!_

_I apologize, I know it's short._

_So Batman sprayed some kinda stuff in Joker's face to make him pass out. I figured there would be no other way to get Joker back to Arkham. I mean look at the interrogation scene in The Dark Knight, apparently it's impossible to knock Nolanverse Joker out. He really is an unstoppable force. And if you've ever watched The Batman (the cartoon, the new one not the old one), his belt is full of these capsules and they can knock you out or blow things up, freeze things etc._

_The scene in italics is Joker's dream in case you didn't get that._ _I was watching The Batman (again the cartoon the new one not the old one) and in this one episode (Strange Minds) Hugo Strange and Batman go inside Joker's mind. It was awsome, it was like a Jokerized Gotham City and all the citizens were Joker. Little kid Joker, baby Joker, female Joker. Anyway Batman goes into Joker's "Idea Room" and inside is this completely normal guy doing paperwork. Batman asks him who he is and he says something to the effect that he's the only thing left of Joker's former self. I found that really interesting. I imagined that in Nolanverse Joker's case as well. That Jack is still in there, even if it's just a tiny bit. I see that man as being very afraid and vulnerable. I see those feelings coming out in his night mares when he isn't aware of it._

_I also made the nightmare kind of weird in that you can't really determine the situation. Where he is at, his age, the cause of the scars. One because I don't know, two because I don't think he knows. I think in Joker's mental illness he's sort of forgotten what really happened. And I like that, I think the scars should remain a mystery. It's a very interesting element about the character._


	17. Harley Quinn

She walked to the back of her car and opened the trunk. Harley pulled out a duffel bag. Inside was a map of Arkham she had received on her first day at work, some bent paper clips to picking locks and a gun. Though it wasn't a real gun. She had no idea where to buy a handgun let alone how to use it. So earlier in the day she visited a toy store and bought a plastic gun that fired a flag that said "bang!" It looked real enough though, besides she didn't intend on taking any lives tonight. She just wanted to intimidate.

Harley unfolded her map, it was difficult to see it in the dark. Her first stop would be the storage room to get Mr. J's things. Then she'd need some sedative for guards.

She headed up the road towards Arkham on foot. She pulled out her toy gun as she approached Arkhams doors, there was usually a guard outside. But tonight no one was there.

When the Joker escaped he killed a few guards. Naturally they were having difficulty find replacements. She almost began to laugh at how perfect it was. She slid the gun back into her duffel bag and entered Arkham.

Immediately to the left was a door with a big sign on it which read "Staff Only". Harley giggled, she was staff. This was the door to the storage room. Silently she opened the door and crept down the stairs.

At the bottom was rows of lockers where inmates possessions were kept. A combination of numbers labeled each lock. She cursed realizing she didn't know which one was Joker's. She pulled out a bent paper clip and began popping open locks, extremely angry with herself for not checking ahead.

After opening six lockers she found one containing purple clothes. They had to belong to Mr. J. She placed them into the duffel bag, careful not to unfold them. She tossed a few containers of face paint in the bag as well as a separate bag of knives.

Tossing the bag over her shoulder again she headed for the next section of the storage room. The room where medication was kept. As she turned the corner and opened the door to the meds room. Harley had expected it to be locked. As she walked through the door way she realized why it wasn't.

* * *

Shane Fletcher was on guard duty at Arkham Asylum that night. He had only been working at the asylum for a month. It always gave him the creeps. He should have never taken this job.

He walked up and down the hall looking in a the comatose patients. It was not a hard job. None of the patients ever woke up, it was just creepy. Arkham Asylum gave him chills no matter where he was in the building. It just became more frightening at night, staring at sleeping maniacs. It was even worse with the Joker here. Shane looked into his cell. It had been weird thinking he was in the same building with that freak, now the same hall.

He had never seen the clown up close until now. The guard watched him sleep, green hair sprawled across his pillow and long jagged scars on his face. Shane had never seen such nasty looking scars. A lot of the asylum's inmates looked rough, but none were scarred this badly. The bumpy scar tissue gave Shane the illusion the clown was smiling at him. He shivered and walked away from the cell.

* * *

A nurse stood in the room. Harley froze in the doorway unsure of what to do. The nurse looked confused at the clown girl in front of her.

"H-hands up," Harley pointed the fake gun towards her, "Now!"

The nurse raised her hands above her head.

"Good, now turn around. Putchya face against the wall," she began using a thick accent in case the nurse recognized her voice, "There, much bettah," she searched through the boxes until she found sedative.

"Wha-what are you doing," the woman stuttered.

Harley was now filling needles with the sedative and tossing them into her duffel bag, "Listen hun, the only thing ya gotta worry about is keepin' ya trap shut. I ain't gonna hurt ya..." she pricked a bottle of sedatives and suctioned the liquid into a syringe. After it was filled she pulled it out, flicking it to eliminate any air bubbles, "Much,"

She quickly stabbed the needle into the nurse's neck. The sedatives rapidly took effect and she passed out on the floor.

She carelessly stepped over the nurses unconscious body and headed upstairs. This wasn't going to be as hard as she expected. It suddenly occurred to her how much power she could have. Sure it was a little out of the ordinary to dress up as a clown and go stabbing people with needles, but she was in control. She relished in the fear the nurse displayed before her. It felt good. And so natural, like it was meant to be, like it was who she truly was. Adrenaline rushed through her, making her feel excited, alive.

She made it back upstairs to take out a few security guards. She crept into the room across from the storage room. This is where every security camera led back to.

Two guards sat in front of several small television screens showing random clips of hallways all over Arkham. The men were distracted talking to each other and sipping on coffee. Harley swiftly removed two needles from her back and emptied them into the guards necks. She then began searching for an off button for the cameras once they fell unconsious.

After completeing her second task it was time to wake up Mr. J. Thankfully he was in a wing very close to the entrance of the asylum.

The clown girl peeked around the corner to look down Mr. J's hall. One guard paced up and down it. It should be easy. Harley waited until he was fairly close and had his back turned to her before making her presence known.

"Hands up," she placed her toy gun at the base of his skull.

Shane reluctantly raised his hands.

"Thank you, now I'm gonna need ta take ya radio and ya gun," she removed his radio and through it down the hall then his weapon.

She pointed it and the fake one at him now. Though she could not use it, she acted as though she could.

He shivered feeling the cool revolver pressed against his skin. He had always worried this would happen to him some night. Getting held at gun point because somebody was interested in breaking out an inmate. It wasn't an uncommon thing around Arkham.

"Good boy," Harley cooed, "Now I'm gonna need ya to take ya little key and open up the Jokah's cell,"

Shane obeyed, swiping the key card and opening the clown's cage.

"Go inside,"she pressed the guns into his back following him inside, "Stand in the cornah where I can see ya. Don't do anything stupid,"

The guard listened to her like a well trained dog, she giggled and laid the weapons and bag on the floor by Joker's bed.

She looked at him sleeping before her. He took her breath away, "Mistah J," she said softly, "Wake up puddin',"

She stroked his wavy green hair and gently kissed his forehead. He moved slightly.

"It's ya Harley Quinn, wake up," she climbed on to the bed and straddled him, she gently kissed his lips.

She let her index finger trail up and down his longest scar. It was becoming harder to keep and eye on the guard standing in the corner. She wanted Mr. J so badly. She kissed him harder letting her tongue graze his lips then she sat up waiting for a reaction.

He smiled.

"Wake up baby," Harley whispered in his ear followed by kissing down his neck.

He moaned softly, she giggled kissing him more and caressing his other scar.

* * *

Joker lazily opened his eyes finding a girl in a costume on top of him. She sat up.

"Hey sleepy head," she said quietly trying to contain her excitement, "Wanna get outa here?"

At first he was confused, then he noticed those eyes. Those big, blue eyes smeared with black face paint. Harley Quinn. He grinned, it was all to perfect. He pulled her back down and kissed her mouth hungrily.

* * *

_Sorry it's short, unfortunately I'm nearing the ending and I want to spread things out a bit. However I WILL WRITE A SEQUEL! But as for this fic expect about one or two more chapters. But don't be sad, I WILL WRITE A SEQUEL!_


	18. Making a Choice

_I do not own the song Make Damn Sure, Taking Back Sunday does._

* * *

Harley kissed Joker back passionantly. Feeling the inside side of his scars with her tongue she moaned with desire. She opened her eyes and noticed the guard was no longer in the corner.

"Shit," she got off Joker and grabbed a gun, the real one, "Don't move," she yelled at Shane who was almost out of the cell.

Joker sat up in bed, with some effort. He found himself incredibly light headed from the drugs.

Harley pushed Shane back to the corner then keeping the gun aimed at him she slowly made her way towards her duffel bag. She felt around in the front pocket for a needle. This was unsuccessful, she couldn't find one.

"Damn it," she cursed.

"Whas wrong Har-ley?" Joker's words slurred a little.

"I was gonna give him a shot of sedative, look's like I didn't bring enough," she tried to conceal the panic in her voice.

Joker shrugged, "So shoot him,"

Harley looked towards Shane frightened in the corner, "No," she breathed, "I can't, I can't do that," she shook her head, "Can't you shoot him?"

The sugjestion of murder sent chills down her spine. Sure breaking the Clown Prince of Crime out of Arkham was wrong, but so was drugging him into a comatose state. She had managed to justify her actions that night. Up until this point that is.

"I would buuut I'm still a little fuzzy," he tried to stand up, "I'd miss biig time,"

She stared at the weapon in her hands, "I don't even know how to work this thing,"

"You're breakin' me out and you can't even shoot a gun," Joker laughed, "And they say III'm the crazy one, here,"

He took the gun from Harley and cocked it before handing it back to her.

"It isn't hard, you just aim annnnd fire," he imitated the action with his fingers.

"I can't," she began to cry.

"Look at me Harl," he said, she looked toward him, "Killing is making a choice, choose between his life ooor mine,"

She looked towards the guard, her victim. The man whose life was in her hands. They shook as she raised the gun. Tears fled from her eyes trailing streaks of black makeup with them. She looked at Joker, if she didn't do this Shane would get away. Joker would spend the rest of his life comatose. Putting it that way made sense. The guard meant nothing to her, Mr. J did. She looked back at the Shane. Her stomach hurt.

"Turn around," she said quietly to her victim, she couldn't bare to see his face, "I'm sorry,"

She had to do it, she had to make a choice. She pulled the trigger. The two stood fairly close, making him an easy target. Shane immediately dropped to the floor. Harley's ears rang from the deafening gunshot. She could not move, she just stood there watching his blood form a crimson puddle beneath his body.

It only took a matter of seconds. A few seconds to pierce another person skull with a bullet. She killed a man. It didn't feel real, it was more like a dream. Or a nightmare. She didn't scream or cry, Harley only stood in amazement at the fragility of life. She felt... nothing.

Joker took her hand, "Let's go," his voice sounded muffled to Harley due to the shot.

She managed to grab her bag and pull herself away from the scene. The dead guard continued to bleed on the cement floor. He was already gone, killed instantly.

* * *

Several guards and nurses heard Shane being shot. By the time they found his body, Joker and his Harley Quinn were long gone. Speeding down the rode in her car.

Joker sat shotgun while Harley drove. He dug through the duffel bag.

"Aww ya got my stuff," he pulled out his tie, "My knives!"

She glanced over at him excited examining each one. He was like a five year old on Christmas, he placed one in his pocket. Harley wished she could just enjoy the moment. She removed one hand of the steering wheel it hurt like hell. She had obviously held the gun wrong while shooting it. While committing a murder, she thought. What had she done? Death was so permanent. But she was desperate, did that make it justifiable? She at least wished she could conger up a few tears for the man she'd shot.

"So," Harley began, "Where should I take you?"

The thought had never occurred to her, did Joker own a house?

He shrugged then began smearing his face with white paint, " I've been staying at this uh, motel in The Naarrows, it's kind of far from here,"

He flipped the mirror down on the car's sun viser to add black paint.

"Ya seem tired, and uh, yooou probably don't wanna head there at night,"

She smiled, she just finished breaking him, Gotham's most wanted criminal, out of Arkham. And he assumed she'd be concerned about driving into The Narrows at night. Still she was pretty tired.

"We can always drive outside of the city, park the car and stay here for the night. Or what's left of it," she glanced at her car's clock.

"Sure," Joker said painting his scars.

* * *

By now the police were at Arkham. Detectives could not find any finger prints or any clues to where the Joker had gone. Aside from the three unconscious employees and one dead, all they found was a short clip of a clown girl entering Arkham Asylum. The grainy footage did not help much.

The nurse and guards were taking to the hospital.

Commissioner Gordon stood outside the entrance of Arkham. He stared up at the dark sky. It was a pessimistic thought but he knew Joker couldn't be stopped. In fact he would just create more criminals like himself.

He thought back to when the clown's crime first began. He supposed it had been a year or so ago. Robberies and homicide here and there. Nothing put of the ordinary for Gotham unfortunately. The police commissioner had never expected what Joker would begin to unleash on the city. Pure chaos. And he was good at what he did. He was incredibly smart, but equally demented. Now that man was back out on Gotham's streets.

If only Gordon didn't have to work against the Batman as well. Why couldn't Gotham see how much they need the dark knight. Especially now.

* * *

Harley drove outside the Gotham City limits and into the country side. She pulled off the main road and into a dirt one leading into a wooded area. Hopefully the police wouldn't look here.

After parking the car she turned on the radio and climbed into the back seat. By now she was both mentally and physically exuasted and hoped to get some sleep. Joker followed.

Harley laid her head down on his lap. She desperately tried to focus on the good in this situation. Yes, tonight she had done something unspeakable... but almost nessacary. Now Joker would be safe. They were together, they coud leave this place. Go far, far away where no one knew them and start over. She beleived Mr. J could give up his criminal ways, with her help. He wasn't as bad as everyone thought.

Inside he was just a hurting little boy, still trying to get over what people had done to him. He just wanted to be loved. She loved him. She always would.

The worst was over, everything would be okay. Soon. Her eye lids began to grow heavy and she slowly drifted to sleep.

* * *

A pop punk song played on the car's radio. Joker looked down at the clown girl fast asleep on his lap.

_You've got this new head_

_Filled up with smoke_

_I've got my veins all tangled close_

_To those jukebox bars you frequent _

_They're the safest place to hide_

The song sped up somewhat. He watched her slow and steady breathing as she peacefully slept. She seemed so small and innocent. A strange contrast to the night's events.

_A long night spent with your most obvious weakness_

_You start shaking at the thought_

_You are everything I want _

_Cause you are everything I'm not_

Joker ran his hand down the soft fabric of her jester suit as the chorus began.

_And we lay, we lay together _

_Just not too close, too close_

_(How close is close enough)_

_And we lay, we lay together _

_Just not too close, too close_

_I just wanna break you down so badly_

_I trip over everything you say_

_I just wanna break you down so badly_

_In the worst way_

_My inarticulant store bought_

_Hanvgover hobby kit it talks_

_It says "you, oh, you are so cool"_

_Scissor shaped across the bed_

_You are red, violant red_

_You hollow out my hungry eyes_

You hollow out my hungry eyes

He looked at her face. Her delicate features smeared with clown paint and left over tears. She never looked more beuatiful. He removed one of knives from his pocket. His favorite one. He let the tip of it wonder along her red mouth. Joker carefully drew a smile in the face paint. The white complexion made her resemble a doll. A porceleine, Harlequin doll. So easily created...

_And we lay, we lay together _

_Just not too close, too close_

_(How close is close enough)_

_And we lay, we lay together _

_Just not too close, too close_

So easily broken.

_I just wanna break you down so badly_

_I trip over everything you say_

_I just wanna break you down so badly_

_In the worst way_

There was something different about this girl. A familar feeling came over him. But he wasn't about to let her go. He wanted to see how their story played out.

_I'm gonna make damn sure_

_That you can't ever leave_

_No you won't ever get to far from me_

_You won't ever get to far from me_

_I'll make damn sure_

_That you can't ever leave_

_No you won't ever get to far from me _

_You won't ever get to far_

"You're mine now," he whispered, "My little Harlequinn doll,"

_I just wanna break you down so badly_

_I trip over everything you say_

_I just wanna break you down so badly_

_In the worst way_

_

* * *

_

_I added the little thing about Harley's hand hurting because I didn't think it made much sense to have her walk in there completely unable to use a __gun and then leave able to, she basically had to do something wrong. And I know from personal experience that if you put your hand to far up on a hand gun and fire... well it hurts like a bitch._

_As for that little Gordon part, it's boring huh. I know it bored me to write it. But I needed another character's POV on the situation. It's nothing against Gordon (we all know he's got a sweet stache) its just boring when there's no Joker to read about._

_I really like Make Damn Sure by Taking Back Sunday as a Joker/Harley song. (Thanks Sweet Coldkiss) I hope to encorperate more songs into future fics. I find music really inspires me to write._

_Well _

_I'm afraid to say this is the end, but don't be sad. The sequel shall be bigger and better!_

_I wanna thank my sister the master of proof reading, Sweet Coldkiss for letting me use Adelyn and introducing me to that awsome Joker/Harley song up there, Heath Ledger (RIP) for portraying the best most sexiest villian ever, Christopher Nolan and all his peeps for making the Dark Knight, DC comics for creating the characters in the first place and last but certainly not least all you people who have faithfully read and/or reviewed my fanfiction. Know you have really encouraged the biggest procrastinator on earth to actually do something. You rock!_

Look out for **Slow Burn** by Shallots in 2009!!!!!!


End file.
